Friday, September 12, 2008

I loved your grace-
The way you walked,
Not caring if you were noticed,
But loving it when you were.
Everything you brushed against
Sent off sparks,
But sparks that couldn't match up
To your eyes.

I worshipped you.
I imagined you to be a lion,
Conquering with every stride you took,
And all that lay in your path
Snapping with a dull crack
Like shrivelled twigs.
Every tremor seemed to be generated
By a turn of your head;
Every rustle, the consequence of your breathing.

I enjoyed being in awe of you.
It gave me thrills
To stroke your bristly mane,
Expecting electric bolts
To leap out at me.
I longed to be a plaything in your paws
And all the while,
Feel the fear of being ripped to shreds.

Then one day...
You tripped and fell.

And people laughed.

Where did my lion go?
I only saw before me,
A chimpanzee,
Endearing, and rather comical,
Baring it's teeth in a grin
Of pathetic self mockery.

Why did I think that you were perfect?
Now, I know better.
But now, I also forget
That you are nearer perfect
Than anyone else I have ever met.

9 beep/s:

Prince of Mirkwood said...

Is this about someone you know who has just had a haircut?

safdar said...


Death On Two Legs said...


cry freedom said...

how prince of mirkwood even got there, i don't understand.

Death On Two Legs said...

the lion's mane i'm guessing.
but then, he has been traumatised by a bad haircut. Hang on, I'm psychoanalysing his every comment for you neeti!!

Doubletake, Doublethink. said...

hahaha. i saw the comment page, then went back and read the poem again, and it seems p of m is spot on.

VelocityGirl (tm) said...

I still don't get it.

Death On Two Legs said...

the poem or the link to the comments?

Yamini said...

i dnt get ANYthing, frankly. :(

but i just thought the poem was sweet.. =)