The pressure rained down on her like a fire,
The world burnt around her like the rain,
And no one around, not even one could see her pain,
All she did was to dream, to think, to aspire,
But the world didn't believe in dreams,
And nothing was ever as it seems.
She was caged, boxed, deprived of desire,
The world was a dark abyss of despair,
But there was no one to help, no one to care.
In ever the honest person,she found a liar,
The plastic person of the plastic world,
And slowly into smaller boxes she curled.
At times her heart and mind would tire,
And all around would seem lost to her soul,
She would see the world through the eyes of a foal.
She stood looking towards the world's spire,
As the sky bore down on her shoulders,
And her faults turned from pebbles to boulders.
When all was a blur but her funeral pyre,
She looked towards the great beyond,
And into her reflection in the depths of a pond.
In herself she found a person to admire,
She saw depth. She saw passion and grief,
And mostly she saw an inner relief.
To her own beliefs she became a squire,
As she felt life blossom on her cheek,
And parted her lips but not to speak.
All that had tossed and turned her prior,
To the moment of the subtle realize,
Dissolved into her unspoken cries.
An unseen look engulfed the crier,
As ripples overwhelmed her thought,
With battles won but never fought.
All of a sudden her mind rose higher,
And her heart banished all her fears,
As she cried those lilac scented tears...
Author notes
Word Prompt: Tears
A contest entry
- Huge points, huge options (Now with a free membership!) by Meroza.
16000 points, ended January 5, 115 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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Rhyme is a very difficult style of poetry to master without losing the emotional impact of a piece. You have shown some really wonderful promise within this poem...there were a few lines that really stood out to me as I read.
"The plastic person of the plastic world,
And slowly into smaller boxes she curled."
The image was strong, sending the message that the girl was retreating within herself without actually saying the words. A very good line.
"As the sky bore down on her shoulders,
And her faults turned from pebbles to boulders."
Wonderful flow in these lines...and the metaphor was satisfying and not predictable.
Keep writing...don't settle for those lines that sound awkward or silly to you...because you can bet they sound just as awkward to your readers. Only write rhyme when you can make it great.
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This poem reminds me so much of the lost kiddo I used to be, and the whole idea of this poem is good. You took this prompt well and I am pleased to see you followed every rule (Getting a bit tired of correcting others you see)
Thank you for following my rules and best of luck
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