Poor little Sylvia Plath married Ted Hughes,
But Ted didn’t stay around he put on his shoes,
And went to Assia Wevill and had an affair,
They had a child little Alexandra which was unfair.
So Sylvia killed herself with gas from an oven,
But luckily they saved her two children,
When Assia found out about Sylvia’s death
She killed her daughter by joking her breathe,
And then killed herself to make it three,
And Ted walked away completely free.
Oh God of the ancient book, are you proud of us?
How we twist your precious life until it breaks
Have you abandoned us?
Or worse have you gathered us up
Like a mother would a four year old child
to hold us until we die of asphyxiation
Are you afraid of us?
Oh God of the hard wood church, do you even know we exist?
Or have you created a new universe to play in.
Let me shout it from the highest tree:
No No No No No!!!!!
Poor little Shura, only four, when she was held and Mothered,
Grasped so tight by the talons of “Evil” until she smothered,
Has innocence ever born a more beautiful face?
It seems that beauty cannot live long in this place.
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Author:
David Wakeling (
Offline)
- Published: June 26th, 2025 00:12
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 8
Comments3
Emotionally draining a poem of passion from unbridled sexual desire, to despair, to murder and suicide matched with stone cold disengagement. A world where it becomes apparent that love, fairness and god are just human inventions, hollow words that build a elusive moral framework. Well written David
Exactly right everything is just made up.There is no justice or fairness or Love.Anyway thank so so much for your intelligent critique mi amigo
That's a write that makes you think, exploring in depth the nature of human morals, taking you on a journey from sexual desire and freedom to death and despair, nicely expressed and written
Thank you so much for your insightful comments compadre
You are very welcome
How convoluted are the lives we lead. Superb write amigo🙏🏻🕊️
Indeed convoluted to infinity. Thanks for your comments buddy pal and confidante.
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