Watahime

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

Cotton Princess

The hustling bustle that we call the metro
 
Does not encompass the heart of this town 
 
The  green bristled fingers heavily flow
 
Along the sloped roadside, and clustering down
 
The land-vested gentry, In nearby steeple
 
Pay heed to true royalty, cotton enshrined 
 
Who, In the age of machine, seduces all 
people 
 
To their truest asset, the lush cads remain blind
 
 
 
Their god, all about them, emaciated by wont
 
A spectacle  now, a cupped beating heart
 
This whole continent was once her haunt
 
Now so diminished that most live apart
 
Though, hold her not in stunted esteems
 
It is only for now that her wild lungs rasp
 
so long as there are stray sun beams
 
the cotton princess will retain some grasp


Submitted: July 09, 2021

© Copyright 2021 Bookish B. All rights reserved.

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