deepundergroundpoetry.com
8th Period
voices laced the room
the sun a golden bow
tree-branch thoughts
and rough edged advice
the breeze blowing words
through my hair
she called my name
clear as the sky
her voice rolling down the stairs
slightly wavering
honesty was new
ideas growing old
the trees forgetting to tell her
that often words were made of poison
she only spoke softly
the paper was toxic
the sun a golden bow
tree-branch thoughts
and rough edged advice
the breeze blowing words
through my hair
she called my name
clear as the sky
her voice rolling down the stairs
slightly wavering
honesty was new
ideas growing old
the trees forgetting to tell her
that often words were made of poison
she only spoke softly
the paper was toxic
Published 29th Sep 2013
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29th Sep 2013 1:30pm
"Period" can used in so many different ways, although in the context of this composition I tend to think of the classroom. Your words also seem to suggest a very intriguing environment, like an 8th dimension or world. Likewise the word toxic can take on various meanings. One of the fun things about writing is different readers can come up with their own interpretation. I don't know if that was the intent here; regardless this is a good write.
29th Sep 2013 8:18pm
I also got the vision of a classroom...gone on way too lont at the end of a school day...Ilove the wording in this...
1st Oct 2013 11:26am
What I get from it is some type of note, or perhaps school work here.You either didn't like what was said, or the answer. Something to this effect.
Your writing provokes images, and thoughts. What more can you ask. Again, your ability to say without saying is remarkable to me.
Your writing provokes images, and thoughts. What more can you ask. Again, your ability to say without saying is remarkable to me.
