I wrote this freestyle poem at 7am this Thursday for my creative writing class. That morning I was so exhausted as I had had a few too many drinks the night before, especially for a Wednesday night. However, I think some of the most beautiful truths come out when we’re in such vulnerable states.


The Itch That Cannot Be Itched

So many flowers –
to smell, to touch, to appreciate,
before I depart.

Nine long months –
a mother carries her infant,
but death occurs in nine short seconds.

Live vivaciously under the sun,
love passionately in the moonlight.
Life is too short.

Just like for you and me,
the earth is the flies’ home –
so why do we kill?

I wonder ­as I look at the pond:
do the ducks get frustrated?
so much effort, yet so little notice.

What an art –
to look at your reflection,
in scattered pieces of a mirror.

The rich throw away food,
the poor eat that rotten food –
what a sick world we live in.

I see a baby cry,
and I feel her pain;
no one there to understand.

The snow is beautiful,
but in the cold my bones ache;
and then I long for summer.

Raindrops race each other –
down my window,
which one will be the winner?

She is always smiling,
but what pain is she hiding?
Is she a con?

“Once upon a time –
they lived happily ever after.”
Oh, the lies we tell our children.

People say –
she lived a full life,
but when was she living?

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