PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

Heracles


On a couple of occasions I’ll imagine him as a proud Greek hero, Only a mere eighteen years of age, Who has been sent down from the thunderous white clouds of the heavens To fight the nasty creatures that lurk the earth With his courage, determination, and incredible strength. Who fights the vicious crab that aids the slithering serpent. Who kills the giant crab with a mighty blow to the shell, Splattering its brains about the once-pale floor. Who, despite a bloody battle, pities the death of a living thing. But that is not the case. The crab took ahold of its prey Claw wrapped tight around the leg Blood dribbling down And instead won the battle. He had experienced excitement and despair. He had friends who were truly there to support him and his battle. He lived a full life, from birth to adulthood.
©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.

Log in to leave a comment.