Ornamental

Ornamental

A Poem by Sam

 

I used to want to be loved
The velvet glove to stroke my face
Tears fall
Like people,
Death waltzes down my face.
 
I would like to hang my issues
Round somebody elses neck,
A perverse pendant,
It was easier when I had someone to blame.
Where there’s blame there’s a claim.

I have tried to name names
I know where you are
And I know you don’t love me.
None of them do.
Everybody looks,
No one f***s.
 
I am merely ornamental.
Your Mother’s figurine
You dare not touch
For fear of it smashing
Crashing to the floor
Cascading ceramics,
Melodramatics.
 
 

© 2008 Sam


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Added on December 12, 2008

Author

Sam
Sam

UK, United Kingdom



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My writing says more about me than I could ever type here. more..

Writing
How It Feels. How It Feels.

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