It will never be the same again
Her pen slips from her hand
it falls under the table and
separates into five pieces
and they don’t fit
together.
It leaks onto her hands
the ink leaks out and blots her paper
and her hands shake
because it was her mother’s pen.
It doesn’t fit together
the springs aren’t working
and it falls apart all over
again.
It falls and it falls
and it stays there broken on the
floor.
It just lays there
forgotten
like something the cat dragged in.
- emotive.eleven's blog
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Very nice.
Love the repetition of "falls"!
I laughed at your great keyword stuff (in red)!
Nice job.
It just happened.... I was
It just happened.... I was doing my Spanish homework and my pen fell down and it broke and I'm bummed out because it was a good pen!
It's not very good, it's a thirty second piece of work written about life's minor details.
But it felt meaningful, somehow.
You know?
-emotive
I do know. I write those
I do know. I write those all the time!
:)SnowStars
:)
They're more satisfying in a way for me because if there's something huge and pressing I'm writing about, most times I never say it the poem. And then I have to write it again or I just leave it for the message it gives. Which is not good because then I have to write ANOTHER one like that..... a lot of the poems on my blog are like that.... but one of these days I'm just going to say it exactly how I mean it.
:)
~emotive
I see. That makes sense!
I see. That makes sense! That is pretty much what my notebook is like.
:)SnowStars