My Strength Is A Forest
It doesn’t feel right to thank you, yet that’s what I’m doing anyway.
Roots constricting my soul, you used to control who I was.
Your leaves of loathing littered my backyard of a mind; just enough to encourage me to notice.
(God, how I noticed!)
You told me that everything I thought was right was wrong
And I thank you for that.
Because now that I overpower you,
I’m the strongest I’ve ever been.
This poem is about:
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: