The Burned Child
Read 'The Burned Child' by 'Dorothy Parker' and provide your summary and literary analysis in the comments section below.
Love has had his way with me.
This my heart is torn and maimed
Since he took his play with me.
Cruel well the bow-boy aimed,
Shot, and saw the feathered shaft
Dripping bright and bitter red.
He that shrugged his wings and laughed-
Better had he left me dead.
Sweet, why do you plead me, then,
Who have bled so sore of that?
Could I bear it once again? . . .
Drop a hat, dear, drop a hat!
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.