Details |
Francesca Atkins Poem
what is life to you and me
what is it that makes us be
what keeps us here and lets us grow
what leaves us with a yearn to know
what lets us feel and hurt and heal
what lets us churn out some endless spiel
what makes us think and breath and blink
what watches as we die and shrink
what feeds us lies and drinks our cries
what makes us fail until we try
what is it here that makes us stay
what keeps us living each year each day
what is it that we inevitably feed
the thing that cuts deep and watches us bleed
Copyright © Francesca Atkins | Year Posted 2019
|
Details |
Francesca Atkins Poem
It's like wearing thick gloves
and then touching the ice-
you know it's c o l d
but you can't quite feel the slippery smooth surface
and the texture of the soggy wool that separ-
-ates your s h a k i n g hands from the ice
it's almost worse than if you had simply
picked up the ice with your bare
hands.
Copyright © Francesca Atkins | Year Posted 2019
|
Details |
Francesca Atkins Poem
never do you stop and think
as you shrivel up and slowly shrink
with each sip of that dastardly devils drink
that the meat so tender and so yellowish pink
was something that could once see and blink
a somewhat someone who's heart did sink
when that night you prowled the dark precinct
Copyright © Francesca Atkins | Year Posted 2019
|
Details |
Francesca Atkins Poem
he did not make me whatever it is that i am
he does not control what i do with my hands
he did not define what thoughts run through my mind
he does not dictate what words i will find
he did not allow me to break free of this grasp
he does not stop me from completing this task
he did not speak when i told him my aims
he does not participate in my intricate games
he did not stop me from becoming fully fledged
he simply pushed me when i got too close to the edge
Copyright © Francesca Atkins | Year Posted 2019
|