A Poem by Soren

If turtles use their shells for shelter.

Do fish get wet when it rains?

What is never learned is easily forgotten.

On a journey from here, I am so far away

It's noon with a broken compass

Holding a journal that fades

My tap root snapped in wrinkling hands

Through broken clouds shadows decay

I clutch a fractured crystal prize

No glue will hold it or its flaw disguise

In your chrome and white ceramic tile love

I'm next in line to see the marble judge

© 2022 Soren

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Added on April 11, 2022
Last Updated on April 11, 2022