I don't feel like this often

Confusion in love and in life

I don’t feel like this often

But it hurts me

that rose vines curl between jagged metal fence links

whose cold metal spikes mirror prickled thorns

in a bleak and hyperborean harmony.

that the talons of birds dig into supple branches,

the same branches that host nests of beckoning newborns

and a sense of comfort in split wood,

that the being who gave the trees their shape will never be known

that this voice I am told to listen to, to speak to, remains unheard

in a silence that is too sharp to cut.

It hurts me that two roads may never intertwine

but run parallel forever-

that I am ten miles ahead

looking back at the uplifted dust of this soul-less path

because you are not behind me.

Reviews

[emipoemi]

Wow! I'm not so much a fan of Free Verse, for there are very few who actually know what they're doing when they write it. You are one of those few! This is fantastic in imagery, musicality, it has soul! My only note is that "prickled" should be changed to "prickly" for I'm not too sure what you intend on meaning when you say the thorns are "prickled".....it does sound old-fashioned, but as I learned it, it means something different, and what you're going for is actually "prickly". Well done!