wrists bound to the ground
uprising
yours to be had
nowhere to be found
in your ground,
saturated soil gives up
spring's fragile lies
so fragile
like the spray your mother prays for
in the early morning
oh so early
did someone sacrifice my dawn
for this overgrown lawn
the flowering is sweet,
but bitter,
and I lie here in your winter
praying so quietly to be saved
where is my light?
is it gone for good, or just bypassed for a night?
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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A beautiful way to start a poem and an amazing way to end it, leaving the reader wondering and creating an effect that'll last on even after the poem is finished.
great job! -
I really like this poem, and I don't know why. The last to lines really struck me as well. I don't know what to say, other than great job!
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