Her fingers, a fortress for tormented souls.
She handles them with care.
Through her words their sorrow flows,
twisted river,
muddy bog,
bloody bath,
burning star,
devil's laugh,
smoking tongue,
bleeding lips,
tired veins,
seemingly set to slowly self exterminate,
through continual masochist efforts,
yet through her, their words travel,
neurons, excited by pleading energy,
the message travels relentlessly,
pushing and prodding,
rushing in a mad determination,
desperately searching for a way home,
realizing their only escape
is through the screaming fingers
of a beautiful flower.
Author notes
For my Rosita Bonita (beautiful flower), who I just decided writes so many tormented poems because others are needing her to share their sorrows (even if they are strangers to her) and that's what this poem is about!
In a list
A contest entry
- PLEASE! Help me get rid of my points! by Shenanigans.
1000 points, ended May 19, 41 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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I can see the scenario built here in this verse is just a life nothing else..well done....thanks for sharng it...
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Thank you, Prabhu!
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That's pretty good! I love the ending! Good luck in the contest!
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Thank you so much, hidingxeveryday!
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AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW I LOVE YOU! I was just going to comment on how this is sort of like me and how this is SO NOT KIMMY! I love you!
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You inspired me to write a "not-so-kimmy" poem, now I'm gonna have to go fill up on beans and write a fart poem to make everything all balanced out! 
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