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Free Write

Come here, child.

I see your eyes are
Red from crying,
You're fair skin blotched,
I smell cigarettes and scotch on your breath
And you look at me, a child of ten, grown old from waiting.

If only you knew how beautiful you are now,
Crumpled like Van Gogh on the museum floor,
You'd put out your worries and doubts and that damned cigarette.

Forgive and forget, girl,
Forgive yourself
For all the things you have and have not done-
Now, for you are still young and have the world
Up your sleeve.

For years you've looked at your reflection
But have not seen it-
Fishing for cardinals in the Bering Sea
When really,
You are an angelfish.

A contest entry

Give me some feedback- go easy on technical issues, its a freewrite.

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Comments


  • penman gold member
    August 26, 2008
    Edit | Reply

    Wonderful

    Very creative and well expressed. Congratulations on the honorable mention.


  • crazymomma
    August 19, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    I really enjoyed the angelfish metaphore in the end. The story was sad yet sweet and the words flowed nicely. Thanks for entering and good luck.