My eyes like a
seamstress
sews their sights
upon a
stern street lamp.
Stiff
and still
with the tip
of it’s crown
beautifully embalmed in
The bold yet
abysmal
color of brown .
And it’s stem
stained with steel
That over time
turned towards
teal.
Sometimes I wonder
if it was
alive
what would it
feel?
Trapped
trembling
with an
anticipation
to let out
it's flurries of
continuous thought .
Yet still be
kept encased
within it’s mind
always thinking but
never allowed
to fully
express .
Leaving those
thoughts
to repeatedly
push against
the shells of
it’s hollow
head .
Beaming brightly
back to me
with that
radiant rose
sprouting
out rays
of red .