This world...
This place...
...
My home...
Barren wasteland
Of corpses
Laying still in death.
A massacre...
I am
Alone..
Why am I alone?
I gave my shade
To the unrested.
And my summertime fruits
Went to the hungry.
You've made a mistake
That you will never
Learn from.
You've done a wrong
That will never be
Righted.
I'll stand proud
And silent
Until again you kill.
You never listened before.
Why would you start now?
This world,
This life,
Has been tainted.
Through your history
You've only brought on
Sadness and turmoil.
Chaos and bleeding hearts.
Yes,
I was there for it all.
Through my time,
I've learned
You never listen to
What you refuse to believe.
And never believe
What you listen to.
So now,
My story,
Will forever go unto-
"TIMBER!"
"Whew! Was that the last of 'em Greg?" "Sure was! And did you see 'er go down? Woohoo! What a crash!" "One of the best if I do say so myself." "Sure was. What next?" "Well, I wasn't ever too fond of water..."
Author notes
16) Write from the point of view of the last tree standing in the forest.
A contest entry
- 18 PROMPTS, pick ONE and write from your HEART, I dare you. by SeptemberFaith.
1050 points, ended March 25, 2007, 36 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
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Comments
-
I liked you ending notes. They added the salt to the wound. Very good job. I really enjoyed how you structured this. Great job Poet.
Criss

