Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2020
iris

we were cut
from the same kind of cloth
but hers was more finely woven
more intricately patterned
more vibrantly hued
more durably built

she talked like
a retrieving dog running
a wild horse galloping
a lion chasing
quick, with aim
never wanting to stop

I talked like
a hippo out of water
walking slowly
treading gingerly
wanting desperately
to be back in the pond

she wears, they all wear
little jewels of knowledge
I never got a chance to acquire
when I hear them talk a sophisticated necklace
I can do nothing but admire
and wish I could add just a seed bead

but I can still listen
paint pictures of the jewels in my head
find ways to cope
attempt to conceal
my unfortunate ignorance
and hopeless stupidity






they always sew dresses with her cloth
who can blame them
her cloth is better than mine
in every aspect
if only mine were entirely different
so there was no comparison to be made

but I can still look
enjoy the dresses
I can’t get away from them
so I may as well think of it
as a thing of beauty
as a thing of unmatched refinement

I am not blind to her troubles
but she can sing them out
talk them out
write them out
while mine are trapped in a bottle of questions and worries
a bottle of bitter soda bubbling upward

no, I am being selfish
I can see that she is still pained
I can hear it
from the back table
even the most arrogant, insufferable, condescending specimen in the table
has helped more than I have

I guess it is just tormenting
to see you and your comrades and your beaded braids
dart down the corridor to the lockers you share
no, I’m being stupid
it’s not like I said anything edifying
or anything for that matter

what am I even saying
I don’t want to be a nuisance
I guess what I wanted to say was go ahead
keep on talking
I don’t want to hear
what I had to say either
Written by
ida
21
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems