Dark Corners
It's been in the notebook for a little more than a week. It feels unfinished, somehow. I don't know. What do you think?
Dark Corners
Human frailty,
human nature,
breed dark corners.
Places where the light does not reach.
Not even the touch,
of another human,
or the warm fur of a favored pet,
can penetrate the inky blackness,
of dark corners.
It is the well of the soul,
where emotions get pushed,
to fester.
Dark corners,
the fuzzy edge,
that fringe of space
we all fear.
Dark Corners
Human frailty,
human nature,
breed dark corners.
Places where the light does not reach.
Not even the touch,
of another human,
or the warm fur of a favored pet,
can penetrate the inky blackness,
of dark corners.
It is the well of the soul,
where emotions get pushed,
to fester.
Dark corners,
the fuzzy edge,
that fringe of space
we all fear.
Comments
just a thought
I came back to look again, and I'm wondering if you want to say "It is the abandoned well of the soul" instead. It might make it seem more like a place to discard things and let them fester than a place that might be considered useful.