FOUND by Jesmond Sharples

FOUND The pouring of molten pain to be cast in the shape desired by a mold of onlooking crowd of well-wishers hurts more that the blazing fires in a blacksmith’s forge… We tend to found agony into a sculpture as an eternal memoir fading the trivialities of our lives. What’s found can always be found...

This content is for 12 Poems in 12 Months members only.
Register
Already a member? Log in here