I am a paper silhouette, a thing
of ink and shadows, cut out from a page
of flat dimensions. Here's my offering:
my heart, a paper ruby in a cage.
They made me without color: india black
defines my features on a ground of beige.
My artist-father never saw the lack,
I had to grow this ruby in a cage.
Forgotten scribble, crumpled rough-draft sheet,
while finished works displayed on center-stage
I rode a wind of chance out to the street
a rescue for a ruby in a cage.
It's taken time to heal me from the grief,
it's taken time to overcome the rage.
I am my own and none can call me thief,
for all I own's a ruby in a cage.
Someplace where victory includes surrender,
someday when there are no more wars to wage,
I'll learn the final lesson: how to tender
my heart to you, a ruby in a cage.
--image by Kyknoord, brought to us by readwritepoem
Collection available! Knocking from Inside
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
Ruby in a Cage
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2 comments:
very strong
I'd never call you thief
Tiel -
What a wonderful vision you drew from this fascinating Kyknoord sketch... well done! ;)
I too used the image as a prompt.
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