hey guys,
in school we're doing a poetry and art comp, and i have written 2 poems. i thought they were 2 good to waste so i thought i would show u lot.
Freedom, by Jessica Hill
Swish. Swish-swish. The flapling of a butterfly's wings
The sound growing fainter and fainter as it's strenght wanes, the bright symmetrical patterns almost seem to fade.
I reach into the jar and lift the helpless insect out, its only means of escape already extinguished.
I feel the velvety softness of it's wings, knowing the butterfly has only moments to live.
Swish......swish....swish.....s..w..i..s..h..
The final movements, and i stare at the lifeless form in my hand.
My face set in stone but my eyes betray my feelings of despair.
How could i have let one of Gods creatures die?
I let the butteryfly fall to the floor and i turn my back. There is nothing i can do now.
It's soul is free.
and Freedom 2 by Jessica Hill.
A faint sheen of yellow and orange is cast over my face as i sit and watch the sun, risingfrom the misty depths of the sea, climbing its way into the sky.
The moon is growing fainter and fainter. It is fighting a losing battle, but it is one that goes on every dawn.
As the sun rises higher and higher, i wonder if it will ever be free?
What do u think?
in school we're doing a poetry and art comp, and i have written 2 poems. i thought they were 2 good to waste so i thought i would show u lot.
Freedom, by Jessica Hill
Swish. Swish-swish. The flapling of a butterfly's wings
The sound growing fainter and fainter as it's strenght wanes, the bright symmetrical patterns almost seem to fade.
I reach into the jar and lift the helpless insect out, its only means of escape already extinguished.
I feel the velvety softness of it's wings, knowing the butterfly has only moments to live.
Swish......swish....swish.....s..w..i..s..h..
The final movements, and i stare at the lifeless form in my hand.
My face set in stone but my eyes betray my feelings of despair.
How could i have let one of Gods creatures die?
I let the butteryfly fall to the floor and i turn my back. There is nothing i can do now.
It's soul is free.
and Freedom 2 by Jessica Hill.
A faint sheen of yellow and orange is cast over my face as i sit and watch the sun, risingfrom the misty depths of the sea, climbing its way into the sky.
The moon is growing fainter and fainter. It is fighting a losing battle, but it is one that goes on every dawn.
As the sun rises higher and higher, i wonder if it will ever be free?
What do u think?