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Some Non-Award Winning Poetry

Past, Present & Future

The sun is behind you now,
Your shadow walks ahead
Long and black
Mirroring and mocking
Every move you make
Have ever made,
Will ever make.

You stand still.


Flowers Of Ink

Sometimes I am speechless
I cannot write nor make a sound
So instead I scribble flowers.

They are emotive;
Their petals sharp and jagged.
Flowers made from frustration, anxiety, stress and sadness.
They look like chaos.
And yet, they are rather beautiful;
Like a daisy with an edge,
An angst teenage dandelion,
Like somebody who isn’t quite sure why they are feeling the way they feel
Or do the things they do
Or how they feel about any of it
Any of this.

They realise they are surrounded by dirt
Covered in filth that they cannot run away from,
And yet
They blossom.

7 Comments

  1. Sumaya

    Flowers of Ink is beautiful. Drawings flowers is my comfort zone. As much as I try to veer away from it, my instinct for a blank piece of paper is always put a flower on it. But the way this poem describes it, jagged petals and all, makes my comfort zone a little less comfortable and a little more exciting.

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