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They Brought Me Their Scythe

My somber moments, no one will ever know They're not open images, I choose to show This is my fight to win or lose blow by blow No one else planted these seeds row by row Many claimed to be in my corner but turned to go They brought me their scythe, I reap what I sow Give them no quarter, nor do they earn quid pro quo At last, I'm free no one left worth my trusting to bestow Vaults are all empty to thine last breath, none left to owe

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Maureen McGreavy The Insolent Rib

Date: 2/22/2023 6:52:00 AM

Reading this I feel both a sense of sadness, and of freedom, both pain and healing. Not easy to do in one little big poem. Well composed! xomo

Anonomus Scorpio
Date: 2/22/2023 7:32:00 AM

I am really having a lot of fun with the monoryme form! You truly hit the nail on the head with the senses that I was trying to invoke in this piece. For me it is truly about expressing the power that I've found in healing and working through some of my own traumas. I'm thoroughly glad that you were able to pick up on those sensations Mo. As always you are appreciated A.S.