I am your monster
I moved into your back yard and you
thoughtfully
tossed me a handfull of scraps I
needed from you.
Merrily, I feasted in quiet
unseen, because you took
no notice. I caught sight
of you. Spacing and pacing
again.
I am your monster
You have the same hours
and minutes allotted to
all, but me. And I swell
on your wasted crumbs.
So, my flower
I've dwelt here so long
my bottom has worn
through this stump. My
legs, disused, have thinned.
You've grown your monster
to ridiculous heights
and you own me, and
the time you've killed.
In return, I can see
The beginning of dreams
languishing unfed, pale,
yet hopeful -yearning
for crumbs, even.
They'll rebound a bit,
should you learn to starve
me.
Wake soon, one day
my hollowed old home
will fill with crocus,
or, perhaps, even thorns.
I'll fade by then
and whatever you've
hatched, and fed, and
loved, will banish my
mouldy carcass, for good.
So, hmmm. this could use. A. Lot. Of. Work.
My blurb for the upcoming writing group can now read something like "writes sub-high school level poetry at a moments notice.
grrr.
Okay, well. I said you would see the creative process. Deformed warts - many, - and all.
S.
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