However, this next and last poem I'm posting was my magnum opus, my chef d'oeuvre, my tour de force, the one I knew would propel me into the world of prose. It's a long one, but at age 14, my heart was full of long thoughts. The weird thing is I don't think I had a boyfriend at the time, so I don't really know what I was jabbering on about. Well, I was a wise one! I should have paid attention to my terrible metaphor several months later!
Clipped Wings (Winds of Delight)
I saw a bird
in the deep of the night
spread its white wings
and swiftly take flight.
I wept silent tears
for what never could be
for fate cruel and fierce,
and for those that fly free.
For once I was a bird,
white, perfect, and pure,
'til I was cast down
by Love's sweet allure
Drawn by things that might be,
by things that once were,
I threw caution to the wind,
and my life began to blur.
With promises half-kept,
and sweet words untrue,
I fought with myself,
tried to hide what I knew:
"True love should not
clip my wings of flight,
but should instead soar with me
as the winds of delight."
2 comments:
despite the obvious metaphor and stupid "winds of delight" ending, i must say it is my favorite of your crappy poems
yeah, if "Winds of Delight" weren't there I'd feel like throwing up a little less
-D
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