Weeds
Brooding invariably brings out
long suppressed ‘thought’ seeds
to the surface, for they remain dormant,
if stay buried for many years.
The 'bosom-field', when 'dug up'
produces numerous dreadful weed,
A crop of accumulated impressions,
which, when come to the fore,
Ransack serenity and poise.
The 'weeds' must have laid
buried there since ages and,
when the subconscious is stirred,
they come to life and
become a perfect plague.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
