Iceberg.
The tip of the iceberg.
The tip is what I allow myself to show others.
Strangers, acquaintances, class mates,
friends family lovers.
All my worries
are the ice under the waters.
The jagged ever-growing ice
that branches out under the surface
Into fears, anxieties, and stressors.
I make sure not to let the boats get to close to the ice above
For fear that they might crash into the ice reaching up from the depths.
And they sink into the cold
Due to my lack of caution.
Icebergs.
They hide more beneath the surface.
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Author:
M.E.M. (
Offline) - Published: September 9th, 2021 08:09
- Comment from author about the poem: Created 9/7/21 | Finalized 9/9/21. I don’t like the word “caution” if you have alt ideas I’m happy to hear them. As always, comments welcome!
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 16
- Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek
Offline)
Comments2
an impressive style and flow, there's a lulling theme to your word choices that makes these insightful observations, unassuming
at first read, and especially like how you used a single image and wrapped your poetry around it, in layers..
a poem worth revisiting from time to time, for sure
thank you for choosing to share, dear poet
I really like this ) underneath the ice are your worries and concerns ..
Makes me think a little of my latest poem about the grass ..
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