On days that hope ceases to glow
She comes out to say hello
She stays in a black wooden crate.
On those days she cannot wait
She claws at the boards, so hungry
She has claws I cannot see.
On days that I do go outside
She comes along for the ride
She writhes around and twists about
On those days I let her out
She rises up and strangles me
She wraps me so I can't flee
On days that she cannot stay still
She breaks out of her own will
She is exposed to everyone
On those days I start to run
She is forced to come along with me
She's attached to the box, see
On some days I run to the field
She escapes and becomes real
And I wait for Lily to come back
Into her tiny crate painted black.
acrostic poem inspired by Untitled, John Kenn Mortensen (2015)
(2017)
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Looseleaf Paper vol.1
PoetryA wide variety of poems from past creative writing classes.
