Back To the Woods.

By
"Back To the Woods."


He left the room; walked away.

He left his mask; there to stay.

Broke his statue,

His feet of clay.




“I am sick,” his soul cried,

“Of petty people; small lies...

Shine and glimmer,

And compromise.”



Something, he’d known since childhood,

Too plain to be understood,

Was drawing him…

Back to the woods.





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This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

Bloodtemptist89 said...
Nov. 18, 2008 at 9:17 am
Amazing. I thought this was the better of the two pieces. It is hard to find me a poem I truly enjoy. I read only few and say to myself that was worth reading but this..... WOW! No idea what it is supposed to be truly refering to as in what you meant to get across but that is the beauty of writing after all is to take something and relate at any cost. It just made me smile to read a poem so close to the style I write in. Props and that is something coming from me.... :)!
 
jthistle said...
Nov. 6, 2008 at 2:09 pm
Nice.
 
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