- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Alabaster Moon
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Click hereAs a alabaster moon rises over the barren peaks
a flock of crows picks at the eyes from a scarecrow.
I can hear the bash bang from the house again.
It says that Ma and Father got in one more fight
before stomping to separate rooms.
I can't stand to look at either of them.
Nothing but fake faces and
picture perfect fibs.
They can't see me in this dark loft.
They can't see my tears or hear my prayers,
but I can see them.
I can see their evil souls thrown against the wall
in that brightly lit dungeon.
Should I sleep outside or risk sneaking back to bed?
I can never be good enough for Ma,
but I am always good enough for Father when she goes to sleep
because good girls never tattle.
The sun will rise over this Dust Bowl one more time
to bake away her hopes and dreams.
- COMMENTS
LeBrozover 17 years agoStunning prose piece with that hint of abuse of the child made to grow too old, too early;
And to see too clearly all that's going on.
Calling him Father instead of Pa is so revealing.
Maria2394over 19 years agoits a "murder" of crows. silly, huh. you have the beginning of a wonderful short story here, but as for being a poem, this feels more narrative than poetic. you could shape it up a bit by losing some of the unnecesary words, but I like the feeling it gives and the idea is a good one, keep posting!! :)
