A Metaphor For Me

I am

An undiscovered oilfield; dust driving dry over it. Covered in layers of crust, hidden from the world. So much untapped potential waiting to be


A plum, its exterior tough with an extra sweet inside. I sit on the counter waiting to ripen. But usually, I am left there to rot.

A horror movie keeping people on the edge of their seats. Teasing screams from the throats of unsuspecting spectators.

Midnight; shining with constellations while others sleep. I keep watch over all while they dream, whether they know it or not.


I am

The Victorian age; regal and resilient, lasting many years.

A precision screwdriver; so specific in my uses. I can find my place in any small and delicate task.

A winter hat, covering cold heads on snowy days to keep the warmth in.

Purple; royal and striking, think of a sweet summer’s day in a vineyard. The plump grapes hanging from the vine in heavy bunches.

A Tigerlily; bent in the breeze but still beautiful. My fiery petals bringing feverish curiosity to some's eye.

A brook; bubbly and quick, I refresh the banks. The creatures of the forest stop to drink and I dutifully provide for them.

A wolf; fiercely loyal, leading my pack through a tough winter. I watch over them, even through the toughest of times. I do not dare to leave my

pack for it would mean certain death.

A children's book; overflowing with stories, radiating with illustrations, teaching little morals. I wait patiently on the tiny wooden bookshelf to

teach the next child my little moral.



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