The Just Ones

Spoiler! :
This is a poem inspired by a book I had to read in French class last year.


The Just Ones

Hands tremble over smooth leather
Thousands of rough fingertips together.
Hundreds of tiny feet dancing to your beat
A sad, melancholy song forever on repeat.

Your hatred is not going to take us alive
We're those tiny feet upstairs trying to survive.
Loud drums and rhythmic banging in your attic
The music of revolution smoothly getting erratic

We'll get out of your homemade prison
On a cold morning before you've risen
And when your last light will touch the ground
You will no longer see us around

Those hands will stop their shaking
And we will tend to our skin's aching
The dancing feet in the attic will fly,
Without uttering you even a single goodbye.

And that day you'll burn in hell,
For locking us up in that suffocating cell
You taught us only your religion and your trust,
But we won't keep praying for this unjust

Comments & reviews · 3
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Thanks so much for your reviews. I'm going to try to work with your feedback!

User avatar
Nightshade
Review

I really enjoyed this poem. I've never read the book, but it still held my interest, which says a lot. You did a good job of making your rhymes flow and seem natural, and there is some great imagery here.
The last line, however, felt forced. It seems like you were trying too hard to find a rhyme that would work and it ended up being awkwardly worded.
Also, having both "sad" and "melancholy" as adjectives in the last line of the first stanza seems redundant. You could do without one of them, preferably the "sad" as it's a weaker adjective.
I really liked this. Great work.

User avatar
AsxLoversxGo
Review

Some of the punctuation was off, for example you probably needed a period at the end of the poem and at the end of several of the other stanzas. But other than that I really liked the emotion. Of course I've never read the book, so I don't understand many of the situations so I won't talk about those. Your rhyming is really good as well, wish I could rhyme like that.



Man is by nature a political animal.
— Aristotle