My Bones Are Filled With Metaphors


United States

It baffles me daily: how we insist

That we sustain on food, water, and air.

Birds have as much; yet from us they desist.

Money's our answer, if there's plenty spared.

But these things won't save us from death's swift kiss.


Call me a romantic, but I hold this

True: as long as I follow the Light, and

He fills my bones with metaphors; in this

I find the sole use for which I was planned.


It is this I cannot live without; for

In this I'll live long beyond death's uproar.

This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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