Oh, Romeo, don’t you know?
By any other name,
the thorn feels the scorn,
carries the blame.
When the lamb is born
of blood and shame,
the ewe is shorn:
a naked neck receives the blow.
Who cares if you rip me?
I was already torn.
About the Creator
Harper Lewis
I'm a subversive weirdo nerd witch who loves rocks. Intrusive rhyme bothers me. Some of my fiction may have provoked divorce proceedings in another state.😈
My words are mine. Suggest ai use and get eviscerated.
MA English literature, CofC
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More stories from Harper Lewis and writers in Poets and other communities.
Babbling Dixie
The short form of tomorrow is never the whole story. Abbreviations mean nothing when we are born to die and we all are aren't we? Being spoken for before birth is something we're not supposed to remember like some kind of karma after effect. Still here we are spending our lives looking for each other.
By Canuck Scriber Lisa Lachapelleabout 15 hours ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
Great reactive poem
this seems entirely fitting a rhyming poem for you - laden with violent aggression! so great!