The things not said.

by Sean   Apr 17, 2011


Smiles grow like broken glass;
sticky ripped skin sing the perforation of your glance.
Solid foundation of friendship? Ricocheted chaos;
We now share a home like surviving rabid dogs.

Brutality of a resentment brewing like a odour;
eventually putrid stench rings out for a name.
The trigger? A old blemish swept away too fester.

'Innocent' perpetrator unaware, no-one wants him there.

    report violation
2


Did You Like This Poem?

Latest Comments

  • 13 years ago

    by PinkyPrincess

    Wow... well done Sean! It's a short poem filled with such deep emotion... I love the way you wrote this poem. And the words you've chosen were perfectly fit for the poem. Great job :)

  • 13 years ago

    by Michael D Nalley

    I would love to hear you recite this one

    I like it

    In the States a odour would be an odor, but the conflicting message was as clear a broken heart of glass that reflects at least a sort of raw passion.

More Poems By Sean