The New Guy

March 5, 2012
By michfitz18 BRONZE, Smithtown, New York
michfitz18 BRONZE, Smithtown, New York
2 articles 0 photos 7 comments

The trout among bass,
The cub among lions,
The shrub among trees moves toward the light,
Hoping one day to be the lion amongst its peers.
One to be looked upon as wise.
As silent as the grave, it stood,
Among the cold dirt left behind from a tree,
A tree who was torn out branch by branch.
The ones who didn’t make it send a breeze through.
Holding the little ground it was given to.
Shaking it still held its place,
Time is a thief of
what could have been,
Caving in towards the new guy in town,
Feeling as if everything is waiting,
For the tree to fall and crash.
It still stands.

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This article has 2 comments.

Ajffmdp BRONZE said...
on Apr. 18 2012 at 8:12 am
Ajffmdp BRONZE, Smithtown, New York
2 articles 0 photos 6 comments
of course cubs are new, I mean they're babies, DUH! What? Are you just going to call all babies outcasts? Have YOU no shame?! And how can a tree be torn out BRANCH BY BRANCH? The last time I checked, branches were yanked out one at a time.  Who the heck takes two branches and yanks them out consecutively? They would break their arms! And that comment about cold dirt- of course dirt is c0ld- it's underground! I do like this poem though-nice work (smiley face)

on Apr. 18 2012 at 8:11 am
marissak BRONZE, Smithtown, New York
2 articles 0 photos 8 comments

This poem gave me the strength to stand up to my cat. It's a long story that I must start at the beginning to explain, but I feel like it is appopriate to go forth here.

It all started the day we picked up Banana, my lovely kitten. That day, he bit me. He bit off my thumb. We didn't know that an animal with that small of a jaw line could do so much damage but then again, he was furocious.

After that, we were enemies. Constantly fitting for the last slice of pizza and giving each other wet willies. It was just crazy, and I didn't know how to stop it. Every night I prayed to find the strength. I found myself staying up at night, clinging to my cold pillow, sobbing and calling out for hope. Some type of hope. I needed it. I craved the hope to find peace with Banana.

And now I do. It's all because of your poem. Thank you.


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