Published October 10, 2011
1.
Born a rose
in a fallow garden,
raised a weed,
pestilence in the
flower beds.
They gave you away,
an unwanted gift,
into the open arms
of one more grateful.
She raised you
as her own,
herded you as a sheep
through the fields
of sage advice,
unable to shield you
from his bottle
or the hurt of an
almost-life.
You emerged a daisy,
yellow in the sun,
petals slightly opened,
taking it all in
but not enough
to feel the sting
of the white heat.
2.
You let them walk on you,
a crumpled leaf,
crimson in the autumn,
withered brown by spring.
You listened to them,
believed their lies,
sought love of the wrong kind.
Walled in the hospital,
sterile and white,
you ran and ran,
needle in hand,
doing what was right,
saving lives.
Scarlet and cerulean,
sirens swinging fast;
you lived for the ride,
dreading the demise.
And then you cooked,
filled the empty place
with salt and grease
and flour and sugar-
just like so-
to make a tasty treat.
You served both well,
an umbrella in a torrent,
so no-one would be drenched.
3.
You held them in weary arms,
blond hair and blue eyes,
smirking like they knew
something you didn't.
And then he left you,
didn't care enough.
You replaced him.
He was a private,
expendable. But your heart
was unmendable.
The belt hurts;
so does the fist.
Both your boys felt it,
as you did. One left it;
the other hid.
It wasn't your fault;
no-one blames you.
The fists just flew.
Until he left you.
You went through them,
again and again,
resilient as a rubber band,
snapping back up again,
almost back to normal.
And then you found him,
anything but perfect,
hoarding records and model planes,
the one most worth it.
4.
Your sons had kids,
many of them.
A gamer, an athlete,
a poet...
You collect carousels,
spinning round and round,
perfect in imperfection,
dynamic.
You re-arrange furniture,
make it better.
Things can always
be better.
5.
Your head was bald,
like your grandson at birth.
But your heart was full,
another garden,
full of violets-
your favorite flower-
and you made it through
for springs to come.
You may not know it,
but if I have a role model,
you are surely,
the only one.
You are the violet carousel
in my mirthless mall.
Points:
Time spent:
IP address:
Canary word: Present
Possible AI signals:
Original Text:
Are you sure you want to delete this comment? This cannot be undone.
Mark this comment as a review? Points will be awarded to the poster.
Your comment was posted, but it wasn’t long enough to count as a review. Reviews need about four complete sentences (at least 250 characters). Try writing another review that explains your thoughts in more detail — the author will appreciate it, and you’ll earn points for it.
141,721 Literary Works • 675,616 Reviews
This was simply beautiful. I know this isn't going to help you at all, but I think it's pretty perfect. I think I've fallen in love with those first four stanzas; the way you made a metaphor in such a seemingly effortless way is just flawless. The one thing I found that was slightly off was "of one more grateful." I don't know, but to me the wording of this is a little choppy and kind of upsets the flow of the rest of the poem. I think rephrasing or changing "more grateful" for something else would fix it. Besides that, this is amazing! Keep writing!
Firstly, I have to say that this was really, REALLY good. I like how the person evolved during the poem, and how she ended up happy at the end. The only thing I didn't understand was the numbers up to five. Do you really need them? I guess it doesn't really matter that much, though
'But your heart was full,
another garden,
full of violets-
your favorite flower-
and you made it through
for springs to come.'
Shouldn't it be 'favourite'? Anyway, this is my favourite stanza, it was so sweet and gave the title and poem some meaning and I just overall loved it! There wasn't any spelling on grammar mistakes apart from the one above I don't think, and I can't think of anything to help you to improve. Hopefully someone will come along with more constructive criticism. Loved it!
-Anna