Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Sciresen
24/M I'm a serial entrepreneur by trade, but that has nothing to do with my poetry. When I feel something, I write it, and that's all there is.
Poems1
Words98
We bask in the burning sun no longer shadowed by trees or softened by layers of cloud and dust. We relish the heat and gloat of our strength. "I can bare the sun." "Look how weak its rays dart forth." The palm tree dries its delicate arms, and the willow falls with a final exhalation. Man doth need no shade, for a strong man weathers the sun. A great mountain boasts before the wailing shimmer, and the roses soak up the heat at their leisure. "I am my own person." "I am strong and independent." "I don't need anyone." But the roses cry without the rain, and the mountain crumbles before the trembling earth below. The sun withers them all alike. It burns the fields and torches cities. It churns and wails and scorches the lilies. Oh man. Poor man. How do you plead? For you built no well you lonely sinner. You lie in pain, but you cut down your shade. You need the sun. You need the rain. You need the shelter, the friend, and the pain. The rose was born for your pleasure and the sun to keep you warm. So, sob in the rain, but the palm was born for shelter. Burn in the heat, but the willow reaches out.
0
Sep 8, 2019
Sep 8, 2019 at 11:15 AM UTC
Sciresen
A Willow for the Sun
We bask in the burning sun no longer shadowed by trees or softened by layers of cloud and dust. We relish the heat and gloat of our strength. "I can bare the sun." "Look how weak its rays dart forth." The palm tree dries its delicate arms, and the willow falls with a final exhalation. Man doth need no shade, for a strong man weathers the sun. A great mountain boasts before the wailing shimmer, and the roses soak up the heat at their leisure. "I am my own person." "I am strong and independent." "I don't need anyone." But the roses cry without the rain, and the mountain crumbles before the trembling earth below. The sun withers them all alike. It burns the fields and torches cities. It churns and wails and scorches the lilies. Oh man. Poor man. How do you plead? For you built no well you lonely sinner. You lie in pain, but you cut down your shade. You need the sun. You need the rain. You need the shelter, the friend, and the pain. The rose was born for your pleasure and the sun to keep you warm. So, sob in the rain, but the palm was born for shelter. Burn in the heat, but the willow reaches out.
Continue reading...
14