They Them and Others

by Maple Tree   Aug 16, 2016


Within a corner resides a shutter
paintchips form a pool of lead.

I know that hidden messages
remain within a pile of shavings....
carvings of diary thoughts...
notations.

Even darkest of corners become a story
to someone.

A book of poetry, in a dying house.

Skeletons have names in places
unseen and unsavory.

They believed me to be a lost cause,
back in the day of judgment-

But I was intelligent, stubborn,
and silent.

If I spoke of poetry,
They would assume
I was lying.

I write of them often
but they've grown ignorant,
as I remain speechless....

And now; knowing the truth
makes them fearful of who
I've become.

5


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Latest Comments

  • 8 years ago

    by Maple Tree

    Hellon,

    Thank you so much, I loved your ideas...very helpful!!!

  • 8 years ago

    by Hellon

    Once again I must apologise for my lack of reading your poems...I have no idea why I feel so lack lustred right now...I haven't left a decent comment for anyone for so very long...perhaps this poem has inspired me to try harder :)

    Within a corner, resides a shutter
    paintchips form a pool of lead.

    ^^^

    I found the comma after corner came just too soon and it threw the rest of this couplet out IMHO....perhaps..

    Within a corner resides a shutter
    where paint chips form a pool of lead.

    I know that hidden messages
    remain within a pile of shavings,
    carvings of diary thoughts, notations.
    ^^^
    I felt there was a huge statement being made here and it needed some ommph to get it across shavings! cravings! of diary thoughts...notations. (I things these little dots which I always forget their name gives a larger pause than a comma and, I think this line needs more of a pause)

    Even darkest of corners become a story
    to someone.

    A book of poetry, in a dying house.

    Skeletons have names in places
    unseen and unsavory. * My mind is telling me it should be unsavoury (UK schooling perhaps)

    They believed me to be a lost cause,
    back in the day of judgment-

    But I was intelligent, stubborn,
    and silent.

    If I spoke of poetry,
    They would assume
    I was lying.

    I write of them often
    but they've grown ignorant,
    as I remain speechless....

    And now; knowing the truth
    makes them fearful of who
    I've become.

    I'm glad you're writing again...I was very sad to read that you were considering taking a break...thankfully it was fairly short.

  • 8 years ago

    by Em

    Andrea, I always look forward to reading your work because it's always beautifully written, usually inspirational and always full of wondrous imagery and this piece is no different

    All the best, Em

  • 8 years ago

    by Brenda

    Andrea, as always I love your work. It always weaves such beautiful imagery and tells your story in each write-Well done-