Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

Peasant of Love

Custom User Avatar
More by this author
Bring the wrong pail
Put it prior their feet
Squinty eyes and furrowed brows
Feel the wind of retreat.
It's pushing backwards
Into the empty, soulless air behind
Tilt its head up
Taste the sunshine, moonlight, and ocean.
Grubby shoes, tattered sole, and ripped tongue
It's a plain dirty outfit
Overwork autographed on the cloth.
The lips take a rest
As the eyes step up
Worked to death
Seeking for approval
Of other souls in the air.
The dirt sinks beneath the mud
When the frown crosses the face.
Dig for something worthwhile
Dig anyplace the shovel can crawl
Fight against the towering trees
And the wind that rides with.
Ignore the aching feeling
that you're on the wrong side of the battle
Because when the night comes to close
I am just a peasant of love.





Join the Discussion

This article has 1 comment. Post your own now!

Susie M. said...
Oct. 9, 2010 at 3:23 pm
what a wonderful to describe the feeling of being used,overworked, unappreciated. it took a while to get it, but good authors make readers thing. amazing!
 
bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback