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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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Posted

Ok, just finished writing this one about two minutes ago. It's been kicking around in my head for about a week and a half, but I just now forced it out. The thought of "the old me", the one that wouldn't have taken all that crap, was brought to mind by a conversation I had with a friend. She wondered where that old me had gone. It's choppy, and needs work, but I'll go ahead and post it now anyway, before I forget about it.

 

I can feel it

remnants of the old me

pushing upwards;

half-buried

 

anger resonates

from deep within

feelings I don't want

to surface

 

to be left in peace,

to have time to heal,

this is all I ask

so the me that was

 

stays in her cage.

the one who wouldn't

have taken all that

from anyone

 

let alone a man like that.

locked in her cage she stays,

until I can heal.

so be it.

 

pushing upwards,

heaving and sweating,

she lets herself be known,

after being forgotten.

 

she stays in her cage,

for time to heal

will not happen

with the trouble she'll bring.

Posted

The half buried person in all of us wants to leave their cages.. You captured the secret well and reminded me of how well I know that person within me.

 

Great poem, the structure seems alittle akward to me.. I almost had to stumble through it. I think the subject is good, and the wording is good.. but it feels like it either needs more wording per line..or a different line structure.

Posted

Yeah, the structure is pretty awkward...probably why I thought it was so choppy. If I could get the stupid printer to work, I'd print it out, and try and work on it that way. ;)

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