Up and down,
goes the merry-go-round.
Round and round,
I hear the sound.
I hear the screams,
I feel the fire,
I see the struggle,
I taste the tears,
I smell the flesh.
Laugh and cry,
and then they die.
Play and play,
the job for the day.
Drive and drive,
crash and crash,
cry and scream,
spin round and round,
like the merry-go-round,
earlier in the day.
Author notes
I haven't been inspired to write a poem in a long while. It takes a lot to get me inspired. But the other day, I had a dream that my dad had other children- three little girls, and he took them to the park where they played on the merrygoround, and when he drove them home, they crashed and burned to death. Wow, I feel awful.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Nice efforts, but show me don't tell me
http://oldpoetry.com/opoem/11632
This poem has little substance to me,
it is neither free-verse nor is it any form.
I sugest either to put it into a meter like iambs or trochee's, or remove the rhyme and shore up the imagry with alleteration and assonance, the metaphores are ok.
look at some old poetry for a spell, the above link is to dryden. It is a nice poem, but for me it does little. -
Sorry - this mottled background and the pale type make it impossible for my imperfect sight to read your poem. Do please remember that not all of us have 20.20 vision!
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