Poetic society for all active poetry lovers

Month: August 2016

Blood Shot Eyes

Bloodshot Eyes

See how she sits in the onion field and cries,
People pass by unconcerned as to why;
In an onion field she sits and cries.

Has she lost someone? Maybe they’ve died,
Is that the reason? Only we can surmise why;
In an onion field she sits and cries.

What torments has she endured?
Fear and loneliness prominent in her eyes, why;
In an onion field she sits and cries.

No one is interested nothing is said,
About the voices in her head, or why;
In an onion field she sits and cries.

Breda Ware

Rebus

Rebus

Gnarled, contorted, knotted weathered am I,
Stupendous stature ascended have I.
Severed, mutilated, dismantled I lie,
Noble comrades razed either side.
Sapped of life left to die.
Know me ; Who am I?

Breda Ware

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