Ms Plath

Dear Sylvia Plath

I don't write poetry as well as you

I can't make magnificiant metaphors, comparing butterflies to beaus

or anger to a raging fire as eloquent as you

My words don't bring tears to people's eyes

they bring pity

But I do feel the same ways as you 

The sadness

Lost.

confusion

I am you under that fig tree

One option as good as the others but not wanting to chose one 

Becasue choosing one means losing all the rest

                                                                                               and i have already lost so much

So instead i do

    nothing

-ally