Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Crooked, brick teeth behind a curled, silly smile Brown, glazed irises swimming in blood-shot eyes Smoky hair, thick on top, more wispy as it descends but dense as a forest the hair that hides your sycamore when you're not using it to haunt the young. Betraying your lusts, you mixed your sycamore with a full-bloom ***** and brought me to be-- The white skin and purple hues of my mother cannot hide that I am of the monster. Dare I, half-pansy, half-sycamonster in my full bloom, become pollinated by the quaking aspen, so we may risk bringing to be another haunter of child's dreams, or return to the earth, never knowing who could be?
0
Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 10:05 AM UTC
Of The Monster
Crooked, brick teeth behind a curled, silly smile Brown, glazed irises swimming in blood-shot eyes Smoky hair, thick on top, more wispy as it descends but dense as a forest the hair that hides your sycamore when you're not using it to haunt the young. Betraying your lusts, you mixed your sycamore with a full-bloom ***** and brought me to be-- The white skin and purple hues of my mother cannot hide that I am of the monster. Dare I, half-pansy, half-sycamonster in my full bloom, become pollinated by the quaking aspen, so we may risk bringing to be another haunter of child's dreams, or return to the earth, never knowing who could be?
colleen-lyons
Written by
Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 10:05 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem