I water the vulnerable parts

Rooms capture nothing

Without wallpaper

Coverless books

Dangle bare

Eroding the roots

Of cotton-bound truths

Silently harbored there

 

Downfacing clouds

Quench fire-filled mouths

Bored deep

Into purple-red air

Branches stand scorched

Under grandmother’s porch

Soil begins to flare

 

No hiding from

Magnified eyes

No burying

Faces once feigned

The warrior rose,

Petals once closed,

Welcomes a touch of rain

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741