Does the leaf provide enough cover?
Smiling at the beautiful sun
The bug smiles, stares randomly
An uncertain destiny for the little being
Unfrozen from far away times and places
A myriad of unfitting genetic codes
Legs walking randomly, a captive drone
The inhospitable death valley all around
Charcoal and a dry stone, misfit environment
For the legged worm, the lost child of oblivion
Barely staring to a world of despair
The asphalt jungle and its smokes, too toxic
Filth and a half of degenerated reality
The new supremacy rising above its eyes
The name, written in the bloody pages of history
Looking for the lost traces of its generation
Lost directions, nowhere to go
Extinction arrived early for the genetic race
How many hangings did it have to last?
A new adaptation was trying to grow
In this bug's outdated body of scales
The pupa didn't dream with this, where's the veil?
Where's the limit between this fiction and its brood?
Sprouting enhancements for this insect's corp
Can its wings spread among the corruption?
Can it fly and spread its dust with the same beauty
Of centuries ago, of golden times ago?
It looks up with a hoping face and tries to smile
Knowing the destiny of every unadapted child
The rising feet, the cruelty and the snot as blood
Or it was the worm's fault for rising in this place?
Crack, worm, crack, let your snot spread on that shoe
Let your existence vanish from the deceit
Die, worm, die. You will never remembered in their minds
Archaeological success? No. Just a worthless underling.
Smiling at the beautiful sun
The bug smiles, stares randomly
An uncertain destiny for the little being
Unfrozen from far away times and places
A myriad of unfitting genetic codes
Legs walking randomly, a captive drone
The inhospitable death valley all around
Charcoal and a dry stone, misfit environment
For the legged worm, the lost child of oblivion
Barely staring to a world of despair
The asphalt jungle and its smokes, too toxic
Filth and a half of degenerated reality
The new supremacy rising above its eyes
The name, written in the bloody pages of history
Looking for the lost traces of its generation
Lost directions, nowhere to go
Extinction arrived early for the genetic race
How many hangings did it have to last?
A new adaptation was trying to grow
In this bug's outdated body of scales
The pupa didn't dream with this, where's the veil?
Where's the limit between this fiction and its brood?
Sprouting enhancements for this insect's corp
Can its wings spread among the corruption?
Can it fly and spread its dust with the same beauty
Of centuries ago, of golden times ago?
It looks up with a hoping face and tries to smile
Knowing the destiny of every unadapted child
The rising feet, the cruelty and the snot as blood
Or it was the worm's fault for rising in this place?
Crack, worm, crack, let your snot spread on that shoe
Let your existence vanish from the deceit
Die, worm, die. You will never remembered in their minds
Archaeological success? No. Just a worthless underling.
Author notes
Guess who is the trilobite in that poem. And if, for any reason, [You] are reading this, and if those words were for me, I am not ignoring you. I just have the upper hand, but you make it look like you're always right, without even knowing half of the issue.
A contest entry
- Pain/Hurt/Life scars. Release your pain to me by LanguishedLad.
450 points, ended April 24, 2008, 55 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - What is Unwritten? by Sprite.
1000 points, ended May 4, 2008, 15 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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Very impressive!
Congratulations on the silver.

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What a dufus I am. Could I have left out saying anything more important? I love your contrast between then and now. Pollution is worth talking about, as is evolution and how it is affected by it. Seen through the eyes of a worm long gone? Brilliant. ~ Joyce


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I love that you used a trilobite! Very original. Oddly enough, I also have a poem about one...strange, huh. Mine is short straight forward. I like yours for the complexity of emotion and the contrast between now and then.
Thanks for entering my contest.
~ Joyce -
I'm afraid I can't offer any good critique, because I just can't find anything wrong with it. This is a fabulous poem with so much imagery and just so unusual in its topic choice that it has me wondering constantly. It's very well written with lots of excellent vocab and if I cannot stress enough excellent imagery. It was quite a refreshing read.


1 - 6 of 6



