Please my fear come talk to me,
explain the images I'm forced to see.
They have desire talking to despair,
talking of each other and what they share.
Love is angry and locked out hope,
wit is complaining about the ending rope.
Disgust and surprise high as kites,
the images imagination they excite.
Frustration sets anxieties weight,
please fear explain them straight.
Uneasy yet the images so clear,
portraits of everything I fear.
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Author:
Maplespal (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 5th, 2025 05:40
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 12
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
Offline)
Comments1
Ah now here we have a group of adjectives talking and interacting in a most understandable manner. Out of the chaos of the crowd it feels very relatable and identifiable. Personification makes this a wonderful poem a fave
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