Water
My exhistance is like an ocean; a basic supply
To the human planet.
My emotions are like a river; deep and flowing one minute, strong and deadly another.
My drop from reality is like a waterfall; suspeneded in the air for seconds before crashing hard.
My patience is like a creek; quietly moving on, and rarely making a sound.
My reflection is like a pond; still and there, but covered in lillies and algae.
My knowledge is like a mist; clouding things from myself, hoping I can at least know they are there.
My anger is like steam; fast and leaving the kettle, and can never be put back.
My tears are like dew; falling down, rolling down to the underside, where nobody can see.
Something wrong with this poem?
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.