I guard my ego, without any scratch
like the geometry box in the childhood.
Like those circles, rectangles and triangles
I have different faces stenciled
(both Smooth and sharp)
The coldness of that iron case
Is in my speech;
Pointed phrases like the compass
often dot it.
I have different colors outside
But inside I am gray with graphite ;
Staining the hands that open me up
I leave the mark
in a fading black.
8 comments:
What a wonderful metaphor! You had me into it right from the start, it did not need to build up. Its like something to connect to instantly. Very nice. :)
absolutely stunnin a write :)
dude nice one raa ...
simple yet elegant
liked it
I like the metaphor you've used here
Well crafted and yes, an excellent use of the metaphor
I like the first line!
plunging in the tunneled abyss
I feel like this sometimes; I found this poem very moving.
http://throwshiswords.wordpress.com
how well you put math and life in a box...very nicely done...
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