The Core

My words are like a rock
broken by a prison chain gang
blackened and solid exterior
chipped away by pickaxe

sparks take flight on impact
chips and shards exploding
from my breadth, stinging their eyes
the well timed strike splits me

my core exposed
they see my mettle
flecks of golden light
reflected by the sun’s gaze

frantically they hammer for more
before the warden of life
can see what they’ve found
filling their pockets with my splendor

with time they polish away
my hardened shell until
I beam ‘neath the florescence
of prison lights

elated and thinking themselves rich
I am handed over for valuation
the expert fondles me briefly
before reaching his hasty conclusion

I am a pretty sight to
gaze upon—ancient—old
a nifty treasure for sure
but nothing more than fool’s gold…

Matthew – 2015
© 2015 This Mortal Flesh


11 thoughts on “The Core

  1. Peel away the layers, and one doesn’t always find what is expected…I don’t need to tell you it applies to people also.
    Powerful imagery with a twist of an ending…poetry at its best.
    Btw, in case you haven’t read my latest and last post, I’ve returned to my former blog and will shortly delete this one. If you wish to stop by, the address is:
    And if you wish to follow, I will happily follow you back.

    Liked by 1 person

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