Wishing Wells

June 13, 2011
By Mekayla BRONZE, Pakkret, Other
Mekayla BRONZE, Pakkret, Other
3 articles 1 photo 0 comments

It is just nine thirty in the morning,
Yet the streets are composed of dreadful grey.
The sun swelled pallid before aborning,
Voices chant 'There's oceans to sail today'.

My pocket's are weighed down by slick gravel
That I've promised to sell once out at sea,
To the wishing wells that yearn to travel,
Without scattered minds billowed of debris.

Waters shape our nightmares out of paper,
Reviling pigments that ourselves we drew.
Waves harsh, I could only hope to tame her.
In end all passed, a paper cut for two.

At one time I lived as a wishing well,
Though it's stagnant waters I now repel.

The author's comments:
This sonnet was written with influence from Harper Lee's novel "To Kill A Mocking Bird", with aim to illustrate the protagonist Atticus and his selfless defense of another character in the book. The sonnet is a metaphor for the journey Atticus attempts (defending Tom Robinson), and how he faces ridicule and judgment from his community, but continues to fight regardless of the surrounding conflicting opinions.

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