I have satisfied myself among your people;
prancing plumes of the most artful swoons;
clutching, claiming possessions prized.
Feathered nests of locks - molting,
cluttering, clinging, closing in;
I have lost sight of life's happiness
and cannot find satisfaction.
I have left no boundaries uncrossed,
felt no mercy for the struggle of broken wings;
finding only myself withering in my wealth.
To strike me down would be kinder
than the mirror that assaults;
and still, you welcome me home
that I might relinquish my hold.
A contest entry
- My people, my people... by poetryality.
1750 points, ended December 28, 2007, 9 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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How strong a message you have in this piece. Your words speak volumes. ~Pamela
I am missing your poetry...... -
"Self-Satisfaction" is all too common place in this world. At least your poem speaks of the pain of it all. That is commendable poet! These words may be the words of many that are far too proud to speak them. You speak clearly for them, I am sure. An excellent take on the prompt poet. Thank you for this entry here and I wish you all the best in the comp! Excellent from title to last line!
Much Love & Light ♥ † ♥
Renee
May Your New Year be filled with Love & Laughter -
A very powerful lament. Excellent tone and depth in this piece. Best of luck in this contest. ~Pamela
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I liked the tone of this, there is much depth and promise in this lament. I like it much, it gives me something to ponder on. Well written.
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