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Postby Mornara » Fri Sep 29, 2006 5:23 pm

A thousand butterflies
I cannot tame them
Cannot name them
They mock me
Defy me
With their innocence
Their bitterness
The love
And the hatred
Their life
Their slow death
With everything they are
Everything they are not
I am not me
I only exist
As a shelter
For these pretty things
These cruel jesters
These ugly parodies
None of them are mine
All of them are mine
I am theirs
They own me
Possess me
Ruin me
Make me great
Hate me
Love me
I love them
Hate them
Love the escape
Love flying
Hate what they do to me
Hate how they
Make me see the world
Let these butterflies loose
Let them free
Let me keep them forever
Let me be free
Let me be a slave
I am nothing
Without them
Everything with them
They are me
I am them
I am a dream
An ideal
A hope
A thought
I am
A thousand butterflies
Dancing forever
In the darkness

I wrote this poem one evening when I desperately needed to de-stress somehow, but could not seem to come up with anything. I am usually best at poetry in that sort of circumstance, and this is the result.

I would be interested to know what you think this poem portrays.
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Postby Raesd » Fri Sep 29, 2006 8:12 pm

Wow....let me start by saying that this is incredibly beautiful. You did a wonderful job with the lines and wording.

I could make a picture in my mind of a thousand butterflies cruising around, and it would be great, but I got some deeper things from this. The conflicting emotions definetly catch the eye as the reader searches to see how it will all end.

Please keep it up!!
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Postby Ariel » Sat Sep 30, 2006 6:40 am

Interesting poem Mornara. Wonderful!
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Postby Talon Sinnah » Mon Oct 09, 2006 5:25 pm

Very nice. I get a picture of Cowboy Bebop the movie. I love the imagery you have placed in the words and the different meanings that could be derived from them. The constent conflict of emotions I feel real set the poem in motion. Keep up the good work.
I am the poet of the body and I am the poet of the Soul. The pleasures of heaven are with me and the pains of hell are with me. The first I graft and increase upon myself, the latter I translate into a new tongue.

-Walt Whitman-
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Postby Mornara » Mon Oct 09, 2006 11:31 pm

Wow, thanks guys! I personally have other poems I feel are better, but I tend to be a poor judge of my own work.

Anyways, thanks for reading!
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