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These Vines

And these twisting shapes and carried lines,
A pattern
(Obstruction)
I cannot see through.
(Flow)
These linear blockings,
a view hindered ...
And everything we see here consists of

chaos.

This mind wont clear without a sickle,
and yet ...
this jungle keeps me safe.
This window keeps me sheer where
everything inside is   defined.
(Clear)

I don't need the light to tell me what lies inside.

A contest entry

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    I plan to revise this poem: please leave constructive criticism!
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Comments


  • Cynthia Gaines gold member
    April 4

    Edit | Reply

    Thank you for your entry!!

    I really like this thought-provoker, although the dark font is difficult to read with your dark background. I love this line: "This mind wont clear without a sickle," I'm wishing you all the best in the contest!! Peace always, xx Cyn