I’m in the mood for poetry, I suppose…
But who really knows?
I certainly don’t.
Me and my woes?
I know not of such foes.
Such foes as thoughts?
They’ve come here for naught.
Some would’ve taught,
But sadly were caught,
Leaving such thinking distraught.
Distressed is the word
Such as I’ve never heard.
As free as a bird
Locked in cages with worms.
I really do think it’s absurd!
Oh how strange I must seem!
You wouldn’t believe!
My eyes shimmer and gleam
With smiles unforeseen
So I sit back with smiles and dream.
I dream of the woes
and the thoughts, I suppose.
The poor little bird
It’s eyes gleaming unheard.
Oh, what a dream! To be sure.
Author notes
a m a r i l l i s t a r s h o t
A contest entry
- FAVORITES ONLY [enter your best prewrites] by breathing in.
2200 points, ended July 6, 2009, 18 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
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