The Monster

For a recent assignment, I tried my hand at poetry. I wrote a collection of works based on some person struggles I’ve been facing over the past few years. I’ve never seriously attempted anything like this before, but I definitely enjoyed letting out my inner Coleridge.

The Monster

Took a walk through the jungle
Brought someone along
She came armed with
her words
but she didn’t belong.

We discovered a monster
Deep down in the dark
Lurking about like
a flesh-eating shark

Gently, gently
Pull back the vines
Gently, gently,
one at a time

And there lies the monster
the slumbering beast
which fed on my mind,
A sacred feast.

Hid within the jungle
beneath the canopy
Cunning, deceitful
that thing was never me

And though the monster is banished now
sometimes it comes to visit
Like a thief in the night, with its claws held tight
It crawls through the cavernous mind

But the jungle is sparse and it cannot hide
where now grows a garden of flowers
Because wiser and stronger and smarter am I
Than the monster that feasts ‘neath the bower

200px-Phrenology1[1]

 

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