Lara A. Aqrawi


Confession


In the palm of my hand
I hold my most precious possession
As I contemplate
My recent dare I say obsession

Bright and instant as that shooting star
Flickering across the midnight skies
Thus flashes in mind an image
Oh that dashing smile
Those kind enchanting eyes

What is it she holds so dear you wonder?
It is my all, more precious than my soul
As these words escape my mouth
I realise I am in such a blunder

After putting your intentions to the test
I hold out my hand with one request:
Take care of this brittle jaded heart
Although life's wheel
Attempts to drift us apart
Or I unwillingly push you away
Please stay!

Is there anything he will not do
To possess that pure and gentle soul
Her brittle jaded heart…

Submitted: Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Topic of this poem: love

Form:


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