Sucking Through A Strawberry Straw

Strawberry stories at a summers end 

quickly turn sour at the touch of spoiled milk. The sun

slowly setting

as the end of new beginnings die

untimely, yet buds still bloom

in nearby kingdom's gardens. Stories of romantic gestures 

and knights atop steeds ride into sunsets,

curdle and die 

as they drip from tongues of 

damsels saved by damsels no longer 

in towers. Warm drinks 

meant to soothe the minds of

young girls, not yet dreaming,

have turned room temperature and left 

to fester in its mess. A woman, entangled 

between the teeth in the seething mouth of a dragon whose aim

is to singe the spirits of those 

who try to raise their voices. "You shall not toil

my attempts for serenity!" the knightress

dressed in metal

shall scream for the children, woken

from the stench of spoiled dreams,

milky sunsets,

warped and spoon-fed by sickened realities.

Those twisted tales of "heroes"

suited in scales

avert girls' attentions to bitter truths;

knights won't scale towers,

slay dragons of unimaginable heights,

or kiss you to soothe your soured dreams. So,

descend your towers they so carefully built,

snuff out your steel dragons with a single swift blow,

sing your lullabies to those children far off of new,

soothing sunsets

and strawberry milk.

This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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