Misfits
Wildwose and rider
And drowsy nightingale.
Bird in scrubby bushland
Letting sleep prevail.
Bellerophon robber
Pegasus did take
Horsefly was his ruin
Wanderer did make.
Monster once so kingly
Soon was turned to beast
Monarch miscreation
On the grass to feast.
How did they become this way?
Two by circumstance
One by nature, purely
Dropped in reality’s cruel dance
As a misfit, unliked.
Ignored by all its race.
Wanting to be loved,
Alas, ‘twas not the case.
Wildwose and rider
And drowsy nightingale.
One good thing came out of this:
They all can tell a tale.
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The Greenhorn Parnassian
Hi! I'm a random high school student from Example, USA (which means that I'm not supposed to be giving out personal info to other random people on the internet). I like writing, reading, astronomy, biking, Ireland, Canada, the outdoors, and more! I wish I could snowboard, and live in the country, and have an adventure. And I wish I could see real wolves, moose, and other Northern animals. I like to experiment with different poetry types, and I especially like to write poems with unique rhythms and rhyme schemes. One of my favorite poems is "Errantry", by J. R. R. Tolkien. I hope you enjoy my poems, and critique them, please! Thanks!
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