The Part I Wanted MAG

By Aimee S., Mequon, WI

He painted a rose
velvety pink and sharp at the edges
on a sheet of card stock
only slightly bigger than his bony hands
Stiff and sort of inflexible,
like he was
Below the rose
he wrote a poem in black pen
- not real nighttime black
but doubtful black
a charcoal of unsure letters
scribbled over damp watercolor paints
Not enough courage to say those words
with his uncertain lips
In the depths of my basement
I found a rusty razorblade
I sliced the artwork
cut out the rose
I tossed the poem
the doubtful charcoal words
into the lapping flames of the fireplace
I watched
that stiff card
those hollow letters
Eaten by the desperate heat of the fire
I only kept the part I wanted.

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This article has 2 comments.

i love this so much!

on Dec. 13 2010 at 2:26 am
shreya756 PLATINUM, Gurgaon, Haryana, Other
27 articles 4 photos 19 comments

Favorite Quote:
When it gets dark only then can you see the stars...
If a million people believe in a foolish thing, it is still a foolish thing.

This is really nice and you can actually imagine it all happen. Amazing :)


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