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The Poppies of Life (Mini-Ballad)
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Poppy Poppies, oh so ever red,
Feel the blood tingle in your head,
Slowly growing; only a seed,
But after that it starts to bleed;
Poppy, why do you have to do this to me,
I stare and look, and then I see,
All of the murder that goes on in red,
The demons take over your body, crawling in wed.
They tip-toe in harmony, suck your souls,
Until small poppy stop to grow.
Its embroyled with madness, confused and loomed with shame,
Its very, very wild, it shall never be tame.
Poppy, dear poppy, don't ignore me,
I'm only a child who wants to bleed.
Poppy, poppy, where are you?
I'm looking very hard; I cant see too!
Dont leave me poppy, dont let me cry,
I love you poppy;
I love you poppy...
Addiction is a complicated
Addiction is a complicated subject... I liked your take on it though. Is 'wed' a typo? For some reason I expected to read 'crawling in your bed'... I'd like to read your 2nd poem)
"I have become a second generation cosmic being, I am conceived in the womb of nature, in my own mind... In the womb of the universe."
Wed
Aha,, no wed isn't a typo - it's a term poets use for the word ' together ' "crawling in wed" thanks anyway!
Marianne
The irony
Of the poppy being an opium plant, and your description of a destructive longing for it.
For your age, the depth and duality of this are both impressive, even if unintentional. You, young lady, we're born to be a poet.
"Music is a universal language and needs not be translated. With it, soul speaks to soul" - Songsterr
Thanks!
Thanks so much roc - yes I did mean for it to be like that.
Marianne
Ballad
is a great word - Great first try. Welcome to PostPoems - allets -