Shell

by Georgy   Oct 24, 2016


Consequence of eloquence,
My mind is soaked in verse.
Substance of my fraudulence,
Is cloaked with vivid pearls.

What I am and what appear,
Is not close, not even near.
You will ask, what do I fear?
Answer is simple- to be here.

Deceiving games, unreal names,
Are used to hide the smallest flames.
Meanwhile enhancing fragile frames,
We will discover- nothing else remains.

1


Did You Like This Poem?

Latest Comments

  • 7 years ago

    by Marvellous

    Pretence is the weakest lie told. The more we know, the less we fear.

More Poems By Georgy