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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

A short poem I wrote in class. Writen from the standpoint of someone unable to feel pleasure.

Submitted: May 23, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: May 23, 2018





Started: 12 – 23 – 17 4:47 pm

Finished: 12 – 23 – 17 4:54 pm


Golden rays fall like silk ribbons between summer trees

The puffy white clouds roam like sheep in the above blue

White roses lend sweet fragrance to the calming breeze

Children laugh as the park they run through

Sparrows sing out and trill along with humming bees

The little poodle returns with a bone I am to throw

Begging and whimpering as if to ask me “Please?”

Thus I give in and stare for up the hill she will go


I might as well not feel it

The sun’s golden rays fall upon me gray and cold

I might as well not hear it

The shrill cries of birds and children who will only grow old

I might as well not see it

For I can’t even feel the pleasure in thislittledog whose leash I am forced to hold

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