Bitter Likeness

High school is like an onion.

I endure both;

school between the weekends,

onion between the broth in my soup.

 

The first year of high

school tore away fast.

A papery transparent

year everything was as

it seemed. My eyes

began to tingle.

 

After that, the years

refused to peal.

So, I took this vegetable of

a place at knife point. I sliced

through the moments, the occasions,

the semesters. Leaving, my hands

clean, and my eyes a vibrant red.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Alexandria Marie]

Thank you for your kind words of encouragement!

[Coyote Poetry]

A wise way to look at High School. I like this poem. You are a very good writer.
A excellent poem.
Coyote