Infection

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    Poem Commentary

    Just an older poem I wrote about an ex.

    Infection

    And he is perfect.
    Like the silver-crested moon
    Barely rising above the blood-stained horizon.
    And when he smiled
    Light slowly broke through
    And poured over the remaining clouds of yesterday.
    Today brings new flaws,
    But in flaws,
    I discovered perfection.
    Within this cracked heart,
    and shattered dreams,
    I can feel a healing.
    And the sun
    leaked through the clouds
    and spread into the sky.
    And his smile will come and go.
    Just like the sun and moon.
    And with every new day
    Brings new flaws
    Creating his perfection.

    By: Brandi Deacon
    2009

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    dahlusion commented on Infection

    03-02-2010

    "Today brings new flaws, But in flaws, I discovered perfection. Within this cracked heart, and shattered dreams, I can feel a healing" — I am a great big fan. Your poetic voice is meaningful, deliberate, and with out fear. Your words have a variation of sounds that I hear even without not knowing what you voice sounds like.

    BringMeBullets

    03/02/2010

    Dah, you are a giving person. Thank you so much for leaving all these lovely comments on my poems. It means a lot to me to know that someone cares. I didn't join this site for comments, I joined this site for a release. And that's what you give me. Thank you.

    knight4696 commented on Infection

    01-28-2010

    Nice Job Brandi! My favorite of yours thus far. You definately have a gift with imagery ... this poem is proof positive of that. Great Job! :) Ken

    BringMeBullets

    02/02/2010

    Thank you again. Your very gracious to comment on my work.

    Jayandben commented on Infection

    11-11-2009

    Absolutely jaw-dropping. My favorite part is, "Barely rising above the blood-stained horizon." :D *hug* and congrats

    BringMeBullets

    11/12/2009

    Thank you! I wrote this poem a while back, but I always sort of liked it. :)

    When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.

    John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) Thirty-fifth President of the USA

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