Aug 31
Dead Grass
It is agony to feel irrelevant.
I wonder if the earth swallowed me
anyone would worry I was gone
or be more concerned about
why the grass wonβt grow any more.
It is agony to feel irrelevant.
I wonder if the earth swallowed me
anyone would worry I was gone
or be more concerned about
why the grass wonβt grow any more.
This is the first of four poems in my series, Clouds Left Me With Sylvia. It is my reflections after reading quotes and poetry by Sylvia Plath. Poetry is my therapy, and like most, I have days that arenβt pretty. So journaling it through poetry helps.
