Deer · The Art of Poetry

Deer

Torrential

But is it my pain, endless novelty of girlhood

Gone bad

The rain, the handsy pendulum of nature

Gone mad

And leave me to it, I’ve collapsed under

Bricks into blankets

And the majority eagerly waits to tell the story

Of how the burdened woman has relapsed

Into her loneliness, onto her own jar of ashes

They don’t tell you this in your high school classes

That the orb of this life will puncture you for

Their own continuity, their own function

They don’t tell you how being a woman is

So much like being a deer

We admire you for your beauty

But they’ll shoot if you come near

0 comments

Deer

skool.com/the-art-of-poetry-1080

Become a published author. Join a thriving poetry community featuring cash contests, anthologies, feedback, and support.

Suggested communities

Build your own community

Bring people together around your passion and get paid.