Graphite

Graphite

A Poem by Breezie Kae

I pour my passion into this wispy, white page,
I engrave with this dull graphite blade my heart.
But for these graphite sculptures I start to delay:
I'm wasting my life on this ostracized art.

I bask in misfortune for this dead media,
I pay my life's debt for these words I won't share.
But still I will sculpt dead words for the meaning of
hoping my sculptures will meet those in despair.

My eyes burn like cinnamon, holding back tears;
I hate to hold on to my doubts and my fears.
But I have been spoiled so sickly by words of
these miracles, specialties, and rising above.

Yet still my curse I'll engrave,
never my sculpture I'll save.
I'll stay with this wispy, white page.

© 2010 Breezie Kae


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Reviews

Sometime in my lifetime I felt writing seem useless. But with age I learn words have purpose and need. I have books of words. I read them like they are a story of someone else life. I like the feel and purpose of your poem. Last three lines were very good. A excellent poem.
Coyote

Posted 13 Years Ago


Good look at the written word and where it fits in in today's world. It's funny how graphite words, being dark by nature, can instill such happiness in people.

The poem starts off strong as the first stanza really stands out. However, the 3rd and 4th stanzas leave something to be desired in my opinion.

Well done.

Posted 13 Years Ago



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Added on June 16, 2010
Last Updated on June 16, 2010