Category: personification


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First of winter, yesterday

but summer still hung on by its skin

we soaked it in with sun’s drenching rays

not knowing when bitter cold, might begin to seep in

Then, we may turn varying degrees of blue

as days can’t hold on to their light

and autumn leaves drop off to become fewer than few

aware that winter’s wind comes with such a nasty bite

 

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Disillusioned and dazed

from the latest fiery blaze

Now enter Time and Space

 on go, to take over a place

Then, brush idealistic hopes away

their once bright colors, ash gray

while Space fills every room

as Time most heavily looms

 and unending questions abound

but no clear answers will ever be found

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Days run past

hurrying around the bend

I can’t grab on that fast

as they slip away in the wind

I don’t see where they go

but, definitely out of my view

If only their pace would slow

then, these far betweens may become few

 

 

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The small blue bird

always perched very near to

 her older, more experienced friend on the power line 

Whenever a storm brewed up a strong wind

she leaned heavily against her protector

She had no awareness of her own weight

until the dark, foreboding, day she was pushed away

causing a hard fall onto the rocky road

which rendered her unable to fly

From that day on, she stayed

alone in the brush, never to see

her dear, feathered, companion again

The little blue bird often wondered if

on that tragic day

 her strong friend had merely collapsed

 from the exhaustion

of holding steady on that wire

 

 

 

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Love struggles for breath

when forced to look at herself

She lives purely so others

can smile in their mirrors

But, often, she is

confronted by apathy

upon reflection

 

 

 

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Change is not a stranger

though neither, is he a friend

I know his visits are inevitable

but lately, he shows up fairly often

largely obtrusive and very disruptive

It takes such a long time

to warm up to him

I search for the good in him

but acceptance is a difficult process

Eventually he does go his way, but usually

he takes someone dear to me

along with him, so, no

I wouldn’t call him my friend

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A muse amuses

sometimes uses

even abuses

an open mind

But she’s most unkind

leaving one in a bind

when off she goes

We must face the woes

all up in throes

our hearts attacked

thoughts gutted and hacked

We admit we need her as we beg her to come back