My binding chains on my wrists
They hold me down no assist
Traps me inside with no resist
In my mind it's myself I missed
But when I try to insist
It leaves me empty where I just exist
Overwhelmed and burnt out was my twist
I don't think I'll get over this
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Author:
haleyalexis (
Offline) - Published: December 9th, 2021 00:32
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 26
- Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek
Offline)
Comments2
if you ever want to play around
try stretching your technical prowess
by matching your lines with equal syllables
and matching that, to the amount of lines in your whole poem
for example, you first two lines are 7 syllables
and your whole write is 8 lines,
match this with your end rhymes
and that brilliantly placed 'missed'
and I doubt many publishers
will have the nerve to reject your work
(of course only if you're interested, that is)
thanks for sharing, dear poet
Great use of solid end rhymes very clever and adventurous. The piece itself is deep and bitter sweet.
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