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Blow.

I blow,
and blow.
But the seeds wont leave.
I blow,
and blow.
But they still wont leave.
I know what's the point,
this wish wont
come
true.
But i still Blow,
and Blow hoping it does.
Finally I'm upset.
I pull of the seeds,
and throw them in the air.
What's the point of blowing,
when you can just rip it
off?





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Thesilentraven This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Sept. 11, 2010 at 2:33 pm
I must agree with the terse individual below me; this is very meaningful. You demonstrate through a poem the way that we expend our energy on our wishes. Well done.
 
starlight26 said...
Sept. 10, 2010 at 6:01 pm

Powerful meaning. Niceee :)

Check out some of my work if u can .thankss :D

 
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