literature

The Webs We Weave

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LunaNitor's avatar
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Literature Text

The room is spinning from the resentment
We hold so tightly to
As if letting go would
Make us disappear.
And the screaming matches are infinite
Like we assume that silence
Would somehow save us. 

The picture frames watch idly by
Mocking us of a perfect world
Inside a tiny cage.
And they’ve escaped
Surrounding us to fill the
Hollow cavity we caved ourselves in.

But yet, we are reminded of the love we grew
In the garden of our hearts.
We may not have weeded out the rotting fruit,
But the roots have grown
Around us, holding our life
With a delicate clutch.

These are the webs we weave
And the intricacy of them
Only makes it harder to swallow
The poison our words concoct
And the home we found
Inside each other.

 

This is a very rough draft, but I wanted to hear thoughts on it and any ideas on ways to improve it.  Tell me what you think!
© 2014 - 2024 LunaNitor
Comments23
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Newroleplayer's avatar
:star::star::star::star: Overall
:star::star::star::star::star-half: Vision
:star::star::star::star-half::star-empty: Originality
:star::star::star::star::star: Technique
:star::star::star::star::star-empty: Impact

I think This was a very good poem. One part I didn't quite understand was that The screaming matched were infinite, yet you talked of How silence would somehow save you, which seems to contradictoire itself. I like How you say The picture frames watch and mock you. The poem's subject isn't so unique, but you Word It in a very nice way. All gardens can't be straight and tiny, but some people like The messy ones, and if you work hard, The weeds can become flowers to you. I don't think you should change It at All. Good job.