Non Conformity

It's hard to capture passion, an elusive force beyond our grasp.
Which defies laws, time, for fashion.
A smoky is behind the door, a twitching body against the floor.
These are passion, these and dreams of virgin whores.
Bottled inside a twisted mind, in flooding horror undefined.
Unlike passion.
Unbottled, unbridled, no fixed sight to point my gaze, surrounded in a sweaty,
sticky, haze, of passion.
Floats, a far, then draws nigh, and buries it's self within your eye.
Set me a fire in smoldering sin, and leaves your heart as cheap as tin.
It's hard to capture passion.

by Glen Cherrington

Other poems of GLEN CHERRINGTON (2)

Comments (2)

This is a great poem. I read it several times. I am new to this site and yours was one of the first I read.
This poem, I think, is your best one. keep up the good writing.