Our culture consumed,
as the hungry would a full meal.
As a child would their favorite crayon,
we are worked to the bone
until nothing’s left.
Like half-burnt candles
enveloped in ice,
our half-alive bodies
are surrounded by death.
They keep us surreptitious
like a child would stolen candy.
Will we be found?
Or are we forever trapped in this long night.
Jasmine,
ReplyDeleteThis was so good and powerful. I can understand everything very clearly and I like how you asked a question at the end.
Jasmine,
ReplyDeleteYour metaphors are amazing! I especially enjoyed the one about half-burnt candles and being worked to the bone. I did not quite understand the line about the crayon, but I really liked reading your poem.
Jasmine,
ReplyDeleteI really liked the metaphors you used and this was a good poem. I especially liked the line about the crayon.
Jasmine, I really liked the ending of your poem it really wraps it up and makes it strong. With that being said maybe you could have added a bit more in there to make it a bit more descriptive.
ReplyDelete