Standing Still

Standing Still

She had a restless sort of soul

The kind that outgrew each place it called home

Before she began to settle

She had a wild sort of soul

The kind that fell tired of each adventure

Before it ever began

She had a fearless sort of soul

The kind that overcame each and every worry

In search of a new thrill

But one fear just wouldn’t leave her mind

That is, the fear of standing still

Reviews

[kitty blur]

This is probably the best poem I've read on here, hands down. Excellent use of repetition as well as the imagery involved with each new description. I can't tell if I want to be this girl or meet this girl - or if I am this girl. A little bit of all three, maybe? My favorite line: "the kind that outgrew each place it called home". For some reason, my mind related that to vines that I once saw creeping out of the windows of an abandoned house. Nice.

The last line... I don't even have to write about it. It speaks for itself.

[SheWasTheSun]

Wow, thank you so much! I am just starting out with poetry and your kind words are so encouraging. I love your connections and interpretations of this poem. Much love

[Parsimony]

I can relate, especially in front of moving waters.