Near is the coming, not going with ease; Way too wrinkled, one too many a crease.Broken in places, still I grew;Cracked like a sieve, light shimmering through.Of skin and tissue, allegedly unable to feel;Look inside you'll see, that really, I'm unable to heal.Grew up under a shadow, amidst cheers to stand tall;Dug deep but, there too, a shortfall.Only wanted to help; settled on shallow and spread;Now I'm dead in the center, as I'm lain to bed.An unsent prayer is all I have left; ... .. .... ...., ... . .. .... . ..... Note: I have deliberately left the last line unsaid. What do you think this poem is about?
Published on December 30, 2018 06:55
Alone in my room with the lights on, praying that no monsters came along;While I slept you watched over me,until the day my heart was strong.Waiting hungrily with a growl,brandishing my arms ready to maul;You fed me without a gripe,until I stopped to bawl.Now these eyes are upon you,taking in all that you do;Now these hands are eager to doeverything that you do;Now the child is dreaming ofthe day he'll be like you.
