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The Citronella

She stood by the citronella staring at its jagged leaves hoping they would grow and carry her away Rooted in the ground, eyes drawn into its foliage the caretaker peered over his cigar at her despair removing the belt from his waist his "sword" of fury she called it his sword for she did not know war but she knew pain the sword of fury thrashed down upon her back she collapsed forward to the ground like a wounded soldier in battle her face in the brown dust blood seeping from her nostrils igniting the soil with red the caretaker smirked at her pain she looked up through tear filled eyes and saw a callous soul the citronella plant was more righteous than him in her desperation she silently begged that the citronella could lift her away from this hell.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

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Date: 10/20/2019 4:34:00 PM
heartbreaking , but great verse, Astrid, congratulations on your win. Hugs
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Date: 10/19/2019 2:31:00 PM
Indeed, the tormented are the ones more free, for they have choice while their persecutors have surrendered their honor to blind fury. You have captured these emotions well with carefully chosen words and heartfelt expression. Congratulations.
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Date: 10/19/2019 1:28:00 PM
Congratulations Astrid! Your poem has placed "Third" in my contest. It was a very tough contest to judge because I was very strict, well done my friend, Emile. You have no Soupmail so please contact me.
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