With Stamps

June 5, 2012
By Basya44 PLATINUM, Brighton, Massachusetts
Basya44 PLATINUM, Brighton, Massachusetts
36 articles 1 photo 77 comments

This paper
Is white
Like a frosted forest
There comes a time
When our shell
Is too strong
Our poetry blank
We no longer feel
Feelings too real
We hop away
For
Tests of fate
We return
In circles
Sleepless nights
Turning tables
Wild wills
Tip tap
Spit spot
Dazed brains
Lazy
Emotions
Sealed
With stamps
There are pink knobs
On diamond rods
Sneaky grins
On
Toothy chins
I write
Hoping
Value squirts
Out
Like a juice box
Twisted minds
Zig zag
Plot
Scheme
And trip
On
Colorless rainbows
Plastered faces
And
Whatever



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This article has 2 comments.


on Feb. 1 2013 at 9:37 am
Sakuya PLATINUM, Richmond, Virginia
39 articles 12 photos 63 comments
Your structure is really different and interesting I like it! And you don't need to fear that people don't comment on your work, you've gotten into the mag before and I browsed your other poems and they are just as brilliant if not better than that one

on Jan. 23 2013 at 11:55 pm
Rachel811 BRONZE, New York, New York
3 articles 0 photos 2 comments
A droplet of heaven. Too good to be true and too true to be on earth. 


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