I had some news today.
The kind of news that sits on the surface
Skimming like oil on water.
Then, when least expected,
A match is dropped
And the oil burns.
I watched the fire
Dumbfounded
Knowing all I could do
Was to let it burn out.
There is nothing but ashes now.
The oil is gone.
The water is gone.
All that is left is a black, toxic sludge.
I stare
Knowing I need to face it.
Knowing I need to sift through
The ashes
And sludge
And fear
And horror
To find what's underneath.
Will anything be left?
Or will I be scorched
Condemned.
-
Author:
Anna Wakey29 (
Offline) - Published: May 21st, 2026 23:07
- Comment from author about the poem: I went through a very personal trauma and wrote this to work through it (about a year and a half ago now).
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 10
Offline)
Comments2
A vivid image painted in this poem of metaphor. Nicely done
Good to hear from you again. Has your housing situation improved at all?
You may have worked through your trauma a year or so ago via this poem, but it leaves me mystified with nothing I can relate to. What happened?
Hey there! Still in the same boat unfortunately, but we have our fingers crossed. We're just on a list waiting for housing but we're in accomodation - it's a little "how long is a piece of string" thing right now. As for the trauma, it's not something I'd like to discuss in the comments section but I'm more than happy to discuss on messages
Go for it then. Apologies for tardy response - hospital. See
https://mypoeticside.com/show-poem-224190
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