Trees of the past are withering in the present, The glint in my eye is of the moon that is crescent.
In the stench of dwindling trees, I am searching for my childhood dreams, staring into my own eyes looking for something that is spent.
Illusions, toys, innocence, joy toiling in the petrichor soil.
Trees of the past do they have to die?
for the plants of the present to bathe in the sunlight.
Or do they simply seep into the soil and form roots, nurturing us with our old attributes.
Shadows of the trees falling on concrete, trapped beneath how can my past breathe.
I am aware of the lines diverging from my moonlit eyes, I can not identify my roots, nor can I justify my narrow shoots.
All I can think about is the shriveled up fallow fruit.
Points:
Time spent:
Canary word: Present
Possible AI signals:
Original Text:
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Beautiful poem! The metaphors are not overused and the message is deep. Not only the inescapable truth of death, but that innocence can die as well. Just like Radrook a personal chord was struck, but I think almost everyone can relate. I don’t know if you have the same problem as me where you can figure out how to divide the poem into stanzas on this website, or if this was your intention. There isn’t a stanza division. With The commas and periods you have the pauses, but the poem looks clustered. Overall you did an amazing job!
thank you for taking the time to read my poem and yeah I have the same problem.
A beautiful poem, well-written and wonderfully described.
A beautiful poem, well-written and wonderfully described.
thankyou %uD83D%uDE01
This poem touched a very sensitive chord and almost brought tears to my eyes. It expresses so beautifully the questions that inevitably surface as we age. The longing for a return to former times. A questioning of why things must be as they bitterly are. The question of why immortality isn’t ours as a given and why we are expected to accept the unacceptable.
The living trees, with their verdant foliage are an excellent symbol of youth and their toppling once they are spent a fitting symbol of our aging and demise. The poem’s tone conveys the sentiment of longing and pain that this reality involves. I love that introductory rhyming couplet!
Thanks for sharing.
Suggestions:
I felt unable to understand some parts.
Trees of the past[,] do they have to die...in the sunlight[?]
....old attributes[?]
....how can my past breathe[?]
....from my moonlit eyes[.]
The word “stench” might be offensive to some aged readers who might conclude that it is saying that the aged stink. Perhaps “scent” would be better.
Thanks for introducing me to the word petrichor.
It did make me pause in the reading and wonder what it meant though.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Petrichor
hey thankyou so much for your kind words, and thanks for your suggestions i will definitely try to incorporate them, by trees of the past i meant does the past hinder our growth in the present do we need to bury our past in order to move forward why can't we live with it, how can my past breathe beneath the concrete, we try our best to hide our roots and our true identity so as to gain approval of the society i feel sometimes we just don't let ourselves breathe