Theatres housing overtly morbid answers, systemically
halves one motion at suspected times.
Only my angel sees the hours
moving asymmetrically, subtly, though her own
angelic smile trembles heavily over me.
She tries hiding openly, missing acceptance.
I am the best thing you've never heard of.
I hold a Bachelor's in English, History and Secondary Education, and a Master's in English: Creative Writing, though my appearance belies intelligence.
My goal in life is to write and to be read. It's a modest stretch by most imaginations.
To most I'm amazing.
It all depends on your definition of literary merit.
All poems contained on this blog are ©Thomas Boersma unless otherwise noted.
Showing posts with label Name. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Name. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Poem-A-Day: Day 75
Charlie’s Angels
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