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The World and Its Inhabitants

Poetry By: TheCuriousWriter
Editorial and opinion


This poem is about the world, and us. It will talk about how feeble we are in the world, and that how most of us don't even show or are outstanding.

-WARNING-
It's pretty deep. I used a lot of personification and alliteration etc. Please don't flame me just because you don't understand a piece of my logic. This is an opinionated poem.


Submitted:May 8, 2013    Reads: 1    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


The World is a tree,

Sturdy and strong, it stands.

Its branches spread out beautifully,

Its leaves abundant and plentiful.

Now as we die, one leave withers,

And as we are born, another leave sprouts,

As a single, perfect bud,

Not yet deflowered by the monstrosities of,

The World.

But do we ever get noticed,

Are we mourned as we die?

Are we hailed as heroes at the end of our lives,

Can we immortalize ourselves,

Forever?

I just realized,

We die so easy.

By a sweep of a vengeful hurricane,

Leaves fall and wither,

By a burst of lightning,

We burn and shrivel,

By a strike of earthquake,

We shiver and fall.

We are so fragile,

So helpless,

At the whims of Nature herself.

We are shepherded by Nature,

Guided by Experience,

Gambled by Luck,

Controlled by Death,

Loved by Hope,

Sickened by Ailments,

Treasured by Love.

Is that not a blessing itself,

That we have the ability to,

Learn,

Love,

Die?

It is all of this that makes life so,

Fleeting,

And we cherish moments that contain bliss and joy,

Forever in our hearts.

The World is a tree,

And I am but one of its leaves,

And I live unnoticed,

And I hope I die,

Mourned, Cherished and Treasured.

And from that I can find,

Peace.





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