I chose
a rose.
No docile daisy
or lazy
lily...
Silly
-i know-
not letting go
of the red
as I bled.
When pink
-i think-
could be
for me
or blue
-that too-
and mellow
yellow.
But I,
I cry
and hold on tight
with all my might.
And yet,
forget.
The more I grip,
the more I rip
my skin
again
and again
and again
on the rose
I chose.
I can’t let go;
and so,
my blood
-a bud-
in my fist
blooms on my wrist.
And my pain
-the rain-
fills my head
-the flowerbed-
and I grow,
and I know:
my blood
-a bud-
has bled
a red
rose.
Me?
I chose
to be
a rose.
Callie, I think this poem is so good! I like how you structured the poem. Physically, the poem sort of looks like the stem of a rose. I also like how the poem is centered. It is visually stimulating. Even though you are using simple rhyme scheme, I think it works because it doesnt seem to be forced at all. I like the phrase "doctile daisy." To me you are using the rose as a metaphor for something else. I like how all the imagery you use is related to a rose like blood red, the bud, blossoms on my wrist. I think youre poem is great. I like how you use the "-" like when you say "-I think-" my take on that was as if you were saying your poem out loud but the words in the "-" meant you were thinking them and I think that is an interesting tool to use. This might be one of my favorite poems I have read in the class. I really like it! ---SMW
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