Radiation
I am not beautiful.
More like the Chernobyl accident
than a butterfly unfurling its wings.
I am radiation,
making the surrounding area unlivable,
still to this day.
I am stagnant,
vacant.
But,
if you look closely,
you may find a frond
peaking from its rest,
despite all the destruction around it.
Coming closer to look
may be potentially threatening,
toxic.
But what a wonder to see
such precious life
among a disaster.
👁 3💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone.
988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — call or text 988, 24/7. Crisis Text Line — text HELLO to 741741.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
Comments are closed for this poem.