I may idolize a humanity
But there is such imagination in idolatry
To blow the balloon unproportionally
Is a testimony to owning insecurity
For when the day yawns and goes to bed
Why do I fantasize something better than my own head?
To fill my own Achilles heel
Creep in the thoughts of due love and steal
pointed times that hearts admire,
upon will and woeful desire.
But did this ever fail to cross our heads?
The wheel turns beyond our
own state of forsaken trying treads
And if a spyglass be held
Beyond ourselves
We’d find that idols too get quells
For being neither Zeus nor Ares but Achilles too,
They in darkness idolize
<Gasp!>
you?
But if Someone would urgently notice
each desolate hole in the wall!
Even if They were Unseen but Caring,
well,
perhaps,
then,
there’d be no idolatry
at all.
Copyright of Jessica Anne McLean, 2007, all rights reserved. File Sharing is Encouraged.
The Rose 
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