Skinteresting

Worlds of thistles do restrict the autumn;
The old pain of black thorns keep me away
From sacred ground I have wrongfully won,
Yet this vermilion’s what makes me stay;
Of these lessons I’ve learned, heed shall I some;
And of these dearly dried leaves, love can be
Drawn; though heavy, not there, leaving me numb.
Of these lessons I’ve learned, none shall I heed,
And all of these old mistakes, I’ll repeat;
For the beauty that autumn brings, I’d say,
“To what extent is the price I would pay?”
Perhaps autumn’s warmth may still come to me,
But of how long the warmth may last, none see.

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About DickensianJack

Born in Wolverhampton in November '93, moved to Huddersfield in September 2012. Studying at the University of Huddersfield. In love with the town - simple as that. As for the blog itself, I've been doing bits and pieces of writing (with varying quality) for a few years. A friend suggested I start a blog to share my work. Most of the stuff on here is poems, but there's other work interspersed on the page. Feel free to leave any comments on my work. Twitter: @DickensianJack (Jack Dickens) Facebook: www.facebook.com/dickensianjack Cheers, enjoy.
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