Through borrowed eyes
she sees herself
as worthless and incomplete
she dances in her thunderstorms
imprisoned in her skin.
With selfish soul
she binds her merit and hides
it from the world
imagined demons torture her
with red hot iron rods.
Her window sill is torn and worn
an inch below escape.
Oh sweet child insert your eyes
glimpse the future which you are
through coursing blood the past resides
a peaceful gentle guide and through
your genes all who have been
will find immortality.
A contest entry
- 2008 - Visual Inspirations ~ And it begins... (Mature Poets Only) by Amunet Wolfbane.
300 points, ended February 18, 2008, 5 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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There is something so very haunting about this piece. I can feel the ache within the soul of the narrator as well as "her". I do like where the prompt has taken your mind, it weaves magic of its own :D Bravo!
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Wow gold! I never imagined I would even win a trophy then to get gold thank you very much.
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