You raise me up more than any other,
Your opinion matters most,
Your personality rubs off on me, my brother,
Rarely do you make me toast.
But when you push me down,
You, my friend and host,
You are the only one can break my crown,
Only those who've helped build it can make it go ghost.
But you are a true friend and stop,
You don't boast,
You look at the castle's broken top,
You pick up and fix every piece that you let your dragon limbs and tongue roast.
You put it back together and find me,
You pull me up and we find the key.
We assemble the bits of rubble,
Until only scorch marks remain on the rebuilt bubble,
The new castle's better; the old one's a stubble,
But those scorch marks are nothing but trouble.
As easily as you lift me up, you throw me down.
But as easily as you can bend and break me, you fix my frown.
YOU ARE READING
If
PoetryIt's a poetry book. For poetry. Edgar Allen Poe-etry. (These poems have nothing to do with Edgar Allen Poe. I saw the pun and I made it.)
