A molded pot,

The resilient hands.

The icy frost,

The melting sunshine.

The erratic seasons,

The careless leaves drying.

The volatile dew drops,

The vanishing petals,

Childhood that crops,

Into dreadful dimes.

The age old wrinkles,

The fading rhyme.

Love that sprinkles,

On dead benches.

The building life,

The pain it wrenches.

The crushing pondering,

The violent heart.

Changing with tide,

If struck by the dart.

Like the ever-changing road,

In the ever-changing energy mode.

Can’t help the crowd,

If I surrogate.

Can’t help it loud,

If I switch.

For my wounds,

Are getting stitched.

As in this race,

Has taken place.


That Changed The Noesis.

Metamorphosis by charliesmyangel


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9 thoughts on “Metamorphosis

    • Well! Nah, No trouble feelings. I used to have them that’s why I wrote them up in the poem. But this is basically all about one thing, that I have changed. And that change is the only permanent thing. I have showed the negative aspect just to prove that even after all the ups and downs, I have changed and I am stable in life. Pretty deep, cant really explain you know! :P

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