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Euphonious Elysium Poem
So whimsical was that fine summer’s day,
Radiant one moment and dull the next.
So tenacious was that fine summer’s day,
The day spanned long, and the night watched, perplexed.
O here comes July, the height of summer,
Cicadas sing and young pink daisies dance.
Alas, cyclamens blossom and summer
Grows dumber; the sky’s tears fall in a trance.
Erelong, ere we know it, August creeps in,
A chill seeps through and the cold comes drifting.
Like a storm, a tempest, August sweeps in,
Summer packs up – wait, where are you going?
The summer meant naught to last, however,
The season turns; nothing lasts forever.
Copyright © Euphonious Elysium | Year Posted 2015
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Euphonious Elysium Poem
The world is perfect –
That’s what everyone says.
The world has no faults –
That’s what everyone says.
“Everyone belongs;
Everyone fits in.
There will be no mismatched piece.”
That’s what everyone says, that’s what everyone believes.
Everyone except me.
I am not perfect;
I have an infinite number of faults.
I don’t belong;
I don’t fit in.
I am the mismatched piece.
Always on the fringe, never able to join in on the big picture;
Always on the outside looking in.
Still, “Everyone belongs;
Everyone fits in.
There will be no mismatched piece.” is what everyone continues to say,
And that’s what everyone believes.
Everyone except me.
No one notices, but I guess that’s because I’m always on the outside looking in.
Notes: This just came to me when I was thinking about the topic "propaganda" and I literally just penned this down in about 5-10 minutes. Sometimes I get on a high and this just happens. Same thing for my first submission, "Acceptance". I was so groggy at 6.50 in the morning but I had to write something out for some random Literature thingamajig and hence ensued the birth of "Acceptance". :)
Copyright © Euphonious Elysium | Year Posted 2015
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Euphonious Elysium Poem
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Shoes. Clicking against the tiles.
Cling. Cling. Cling.
Keys. Jingling against each other.
Clink. Clink. Clink.
Cuffs. Clanking against the bars.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Water. Smacking against the floor.
Whack. Whack. Whack.
A whip. Lashing against my skin.
One more day to go.
Just wrote this out in a couple of minutes with my mind on the topic word of "prison". Enjoy!
Copyright © Euphonious Elysium | Year Posted 2015
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Euphonious Elysium Poem
Rods of iron
All around me –
No way out.
They ask me to sing,
I don’t want to; yet,
I still do.
I try to break free,
But all I see is the cage.
Rods of iron
All around me.
I’m stuck here –
Perhaps for eternity.
I can’t see anything past
These rods of iron
All around me.
Do I really want to break free?
Or have I already gotten
Comfortable; used to this?
No!
I want to break free; need to.
But all I see is the cage, and
Rods of iron
All around me –
No way out.
(Inspiration: Song of the Caged Bird by Lindsey Stirling)
Copyright © Euphonious Elysium | Year Posted 2015
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