I tell you
reckless rebellion sprouts
upon a hopeless soil
where
every scrawny arm
itself grasps,
its own kin smothers.
but they need not know
of the madness we house
still, tired I am
of moping around.
tired as well of doubts
so,
hollow us albeit,
let the sapling grow;
bloom and all and onโ
till a stout, angry fuel it makes
then burn we may
and ashen too.
and I know youโre scared
curse this valourโ oh,
curse we, yet
fail to topple
this palace of cards.
cards: silenced tremors.
fight, we fight the tyrant air
that holds firm our wings
and will let not go
and I know youโre scared
any clumsy wind may bare for us
our own restraining snakesโ
stink of mud, of rot and ash.
but they have not yet.
not yet.
let grow this mad and
burning tree
let grow, let grow
for when you rot, I
willingly, foolishly
mimic
20/09/2021
Another one written during the social studies lecture
Our teacher is a slimy, sulky, stinky toad