Blackberries
There’s a small house on the hill
Where the blackberries grow
A little girl runs through the woods
Did she know? Did she know?
The house is much older
The paint is now peeling
The girl’s life no longer has much feeling
She no longer is carefree
Doesn’t run through the woods
Life isn’t perfect
Blackberries are sour
Did she know? Did she know?
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Willow Poetry
Hello! I'm Willow Poetry. I write poetry as an outlet, to express my emotions, and for fun! I hope you enjoy my poetry, and feel free to write a comment.
View all poems →▾ This Poem's Voice
Your Poem's Voice
PersonalThemeAbstract
Personal nostalgia and loss grounded in concrete childhood setting.
SparseMeasureDense
Sparse, meditative pacing with gradual thematic development across 11 lines.
DarkSentimentBright
Melancholic reflection on lost innocence and emotional emptiness.
StillEnergyExplosive
Quiet, introspective tone with minimal kinetic intensity throughout.
MicroLengthEpic
11 lines places poem in 7-15 range.
PlainFigurativeOrnamented
Modest use of personification, repetition, subtle metaphors; mostly declarative.
LyricVoiceDramatic
Pure lyric internal voice reflecting on personal memories and feelings.
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