The Forest of Orphaned Trees
Are you attached to some of
your poems?
Or is it only me?
I see my best ones as living trees.
Standing alone with no comments
And, it makes me tragically sad as can be.
The short poems of mine get some
comments and that's all they deserve.
But the ones that grow from the
root and elegance of my heart?
No chance.
You get daggers in your hearts.
You stand like royalty,in the moonlit forest.
Greatly ignored, wanting to return
And hide in Panagiota's heart.
Where it is the warmest!
I want to erase you from the cold,
Indifferent site, so naked,
Exposed to all the world.
The trees and I know they are not wanted.
The no-think poems, applauded?
Why you bet!
Come back dear, long poems!
My Heart's door wide open to you.
I am proud of each of you!
More than eight lines,oops...
In a tech world you are too much.
Three lines only or less are best?
Shakespeare would have been a flop
He wrote in full sentences, outrageous
today!
Your tea and plaid blankets ready,
The fog rolling in...
Please, come home, poem trees.
I applaud you for standing tall, yet
bearing dishonor in spite of all.
Love,
Mom...Panagiota
5/13/2018
10:30 pm PST
Copyright © Panagiota Romios | Year Posted 2019
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