ParadiseA Poem by John Byrd
I was washed up on the shore
But these were vultures picking at me As if my corpse did not matter. I was still alive wasn't I? Did my breath really matter to the rest of the world? Or would it spit me back up as the sea did? The shells here are much different than the ones back home. These depicted serenity while the others death. Same words different story. One could hit you even on the 12th story. What does that say about natural vs man-made? Well man made me... Back to the story, as I shooed the vultures A grand object approached the dock. It was glowing and illuminating against my darkness My eyes couldn't handle much and fought to stay open. Able to keep them open for a second longer, I saw the boat. It seemed to be floating above the water. I ran to it hoping it was my key to freedom. Leaping from the dock, not sure if I'd make it I landed on the boat named Paradise. © 2015 John Byrd |
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Added on April 16, 2015 Last Updated on April 16, 2015 AuthorJohn ByrdDetroit, MIAboutJunior at Michigan State University. Hip Hop and poetry are my two favorite things. Childish Gambino is my favorite artist. Walt Whitman, Emily Dickinson, and Henry David Thoreau are my favorite .. more..Writing
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