Born
Torn
Worn
I am the queen of dawn
A touch to my lawn,
And I spill a venom of pawn,
Into the roots of the contagious thorn,
Piercing every knuckle of scorn,
Blood-soaked strength of my crown.
Born
Torn
Worn
Sworn
I am the queen of dawn
Wearing a beautiful crown,
Gracing the town.
And I
Raved
Engraved
And braved the King of Sloan.
About the Creator
Parvathi J
Through my pages, I find the quiet complexities of pain dwelling in a solitary space, burdening life’s endless demands, and unburdening the voiceless noise.
Witnessing the questioning, I speak the deeper silence of my voice.
IG: shruthilayam
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More stories from Parvathi J and writers in Poets and other communities.
Where's the Glory?
In breaking news, rehabilitated Republican Senator Johnnie Johnson (Pronouns: HE, HIM, HIS) called a press conference from the Men’s room of the New Orleans Louis Armstrong International Airport, Concourse B, across from the Ignatius Reilly’s Lucky Dog stand. The Senator had just returned from a sexual reorientation rehabilitation program in Memphis, TN after being publically disgraced at a Buckee’s Truckstop restroom soliciting sex from an undercover cop three months ago. He is a founding member of the Reformed Christians for Christ, a conservative, pro-family and ex-gay advocacy group. In the spirit of being reborn, Senator Johnson invited reporters to marvel at his plans for a major remodeling of airport bathrooms.
By Cathy Schieffelin7 days ago in Humor
Comments (2)
Oooo, I especially loved the rhythm this had. Well done!
Great work