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Jan 28, 2023
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Jungle
Roaring is left to violets
When kittens kill the lions
They could never be
Gardens bloom unfettered
Paws that bled remember
Earth anointed cinder and ash
Gray has no patience
For bloods brooding hue
In a black and white world
Fire's feeble memory
Serves not the inferno
The garden remembers
Swans circling vultures
And the jungle grows back
About This Poem
Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing Stage: Editing - polished draft
Comments
swamp-witch
2 years 3 months ago
Hello Indivisible,
I really like this poem. The word choice and imagery are right up my alley.
Kittens killing the lions they could never be really hits home for me. Always felt like I wasn't good enough and could never live up to the unachievable expectations others put on me. "Killing" that part of me that wants to people-please until I do achieve those unachievable standards is an ongoing process for me.
I especially love "For bloods brooding hue" and if I may make a suggestion on that line, bloods is missing an apostrophe --> blood's
Take care,
Kelsey