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Itara Imacoff Poem
A little red fox
Entered the forest one night
The moon failed to pass through the canopy
A dark crunch he felt, as he walked each time
He wasn’t scared though
He didn’t have a reason to be
His kin would find him
For sure there was no need to grieve
Until he remembered
That they weren’t the same souls he once knew
They’d abandoned him at the edge of the mountain
Nothing absurd or new
He was used to it
The quick silver changes
In their voices as they would play
In their expressions as they would say
“We love you”
But they wouldn’t change for him
“We'll understand you”
But they pushed him away yet again
They treated him like a criminal
When he’d try to be one of them
Don’t break your word, he’d cry
Only to be heartbroken again
“We’ll be kind to you”
Falling for that one promise
He’d foolishly landed up
Here at the edge of the mountain
Where he had once thought their temperament would never change
Hi readers! So the poem ends here but I wanted to attach a little piece from my thoughts. I would be grateful if you would read it and perhaps, you could relate.
I don’t understand why people do what they do. Sometimes they say selfish things, it hurts me but I’m told to get used to the ways of the world. Why must I bend my heart to avoid shattered glass from cutting through, why is it not them who are told not to break it in the first place. Either way, my heart ends up getting cut, and I end up back here to write it in poetry. For in no other way would the world understand if I tore it all apart one fine day. They wouldn’t think I smoked something or went insane, they’d know it was them who made me slowly turn against everything I thought I knew and everything I felt I was. They’d know that I did it not because I hated them, but because I hated the way I was supposed to not mind all the hurt and forget all the times my thoughts were conveniently left unheard. And if my ghost were to take revenge, it’d simply wait beside my grave for all the hypocrites who broke their promises and changed. For it was them whom I had leaned on to make the world slightly bearable, but it was also them who refused to share any burden of my faltering heart and tireless mind.
Copyright © Itara Imacoff | Year Posted 2024
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Itara Imacoff Poem
Whenever did the waters change
And the moonlight cease to be enticing
And the cherry tree by the window
Not blossom enough
For you to have outspoken
All the kind and genuine words
I had known always to be
Casually thrown about
From the days when my fingers were little
And the snow always touched your head first
On a cold icy morning
I could believe in you to keep the hearth warm
Whenever did the waters change
And the seasons wither by
And the spells of rain cast
In flowing rivers by
For you to have forgotten
That I am still your little girl
Yet you remain no more the man
Known to me as father
Now it seems a bitter word
Fleetingly touched by meaning
While all that is left now
Are your graying hair and constant unwillingness to
Harbor even the slightest of change
Are your days passing by too quickly
For you to remember that I liked
The way your words were capable
Of inducing laughter filled chatter
Perhaps I need blame the things
I mustn’t have known
And spun the wild lone threads of the story
In plague like imagination
For once I begin to see
You through a looking glass
Not tinted just tinged
With often instances of hate and disbelief
That lead me to concede
To you having forgotten
That I am still your little girl
Yet you remain no more the man
Known to me as father
Copyright © Itara Imacoff | Year Posted 2024
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Itara Imacoff Poem
Where is the sky that holds me under
I can’t see beyond
The blue and white
And the red staining the horizon true
How many black spaces are there?
Can’t I count, Can’t i fathom
When you said you’d love me to eternity
Where is that time?
When we become bones
That then become stardust
And further up sparkling
Lightning for someone else in another world
Will they understand?
We are the sky that holds them under
When we don’t know where we go
When the beyond comes crashing down
Our existence isn’t felt
Let alone seen
Are you not afraid?
Of when you won’t be able to see the sky that holds us under
Copyright © Itara Imacoff | Year Posted 2024
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