Pure At Heart
14 September, 2010
Author: Morgan Bard
As life fades away, we watch from the sidelines,
But when it blossoms, we are there.
A rose is wilting, Superman tries to save it,
When its petals turn brown and crumble, it’s tossed.
And like a phoenix, from fallen petals, true heroes arise.
Lifted by humble fingers,
Sweet, sickly the smell of death wafts on a sly breeze.
Enchanted tears fall upon the flower,
Overwhelmed by beauty from with in.
Hero’s need not powers or popularity, neither true,
But a heart, pure,
Where thornless stems sprout scarlet blossoms eternal.
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Comments on this poem/writing:
| David (96.28.98.173) -- Friday, September 17 2010, 01:17 am A well-written and thought-provoking poem. Intelligent and insightful. Nicely penned. Keep listening to your muse... always believe. |
| Mary (74.129.249.94) -- Thursday, September 23 2010, 08:28 pm Keep up the good work, Morgan. You are a very deep thinker and put alot of thought into your work. Keep it up!!! |
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