poetry critical

online poetry workshop

no body can be plural

there is no room for a few
in a box made for one.
it is for me, it is for mine,
and absolutely no other.
it has my eyes; it has my pride;
it is a locked door.
it is kept there for one
and not one more.
it is my shelter and my warmth;
it is my red, my red wet, my shivers in the cold;
it is my own hunger to care for;
it is my burden to bear.
there exists only one place
for one small prayer.
there is no more vacancy there.
i have pain, it is mine.
it brings one pain with none to share.
my warmth is my own warmth and
i will end there.
this box is my box
and i will stay there.

21 Feb 07

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Yeah - stay in the box, Good idea --- really -stay there -- your poetry stinks
 — unknown