After the storm passed
Her dank face tore
into a jigsaw puzzle
The pieces
we carry
in our eyes
To be used
as per convenience
-
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After the storm passed
Her dank face tore
into a jigsaw puzzle
The pieces
we carry
in our eyes
To be used
as per convenience
A Blind Bird 
I love your use of symbolism here. It’s one of those timeless poems. Simply excellent. Thank you for sharing š
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Thank you very much, Spahr. I’m pleased that you liked the symbolism. Your words always cheer me up! š
Have a great week!
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Treasurable poem… ā„
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Thank you very much! ā„
Have a wonderful week, my friend! š
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Oh W O W! This is very powerful and poignant. So very true too. Our experiences, our sufferings, and how they become a part of us. They shape us actually. I love the third stanza, “the pieces we carry in our eyes.” I’m floored – truly.
š
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Oh my! Thank you, Staci! I’m very much whelmed by your words! ‘Woohoo!’ is what’s on my mind, but I’d rather take a gracious bow, ’cause “Iām floored” coming from you means a lot! š
As always, you got it right away, what I wanted to deliver. Our sufferings shape us – precisely! Thank you very much, my friend! ā¤
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Wow, this was powerful-good–a face tearing into jigsaw puzzle pieces is really fine imagery.
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Thank you very much, P! It’s great that you liked the imagery. š
Hope you’re doing well.
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if the bard is pasta, this is anti pasta! really liked it, D š
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Hehehe, “anti-pasta” Whee! XD
Thanks, C! š
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