Pearls before Swine
(c)2006 by Kate Quinn

I could cut out my heart
And use it to paint these bland walls of yours
Such a pretty crimson
So sparkling
So full of life
Draining life.

I could cut off my hair
And use the silky strands to string a rope
On which I hang suspended
Waiting to see
What you will say to me.

But you say nothing.
You don't care anymore
Maybe once you did
Maybe once you saw
But now there is nothing
Cold Ice
In a room full of bland conversation of which I have not been a part of
for the longest time.

Why be a pearl if no one will see?
Sometimes i've wished to be a swine like them
Rolling in the mud
Casting balls of dirt at others
Just because they can.
What a simple, mundane existance.
At least there isn't much stress if you do what everyone else does.
You don't have to think too much that way.
Oh what bliss!

State of the world, my sister says.
Play the game or be played by it.
That is why he's remained our president
And no one will listen unless it is a joke.

I think I'll stay in Neverland instead.

This message has been edited. Last edited by: Free Madness,

Kate, I like the ideas in this poem, but I think you could whittle this down a bit to make it more "poetic".

At the moment it reads more like a piece of prose. Stuff like "cold ice" actually speaks to me more, with fewer words, than a lot of the other parts where you are trying to explain a lot.

Have another go, please. I reckon this one could be a pearler, with a bit of trimming.