The Grass Will Grow

Standard

A shovel deep in stone,
hits bottom
then keeps going.
Tossed aside
the gravel and dirt,
delving deeper into the earth.

Placed in a box
with a tight-locked lid,
demons of another bid.
Forgotten.

Or–to be forgotten.

Passerby look me in the eyes,
and cocks his head to one side.
“Burying the past,”
I tell him.

He understands.

And in a few months,
grass will grow
to cover this new-leased

grave.

Okay, okay, last post of the day. I can’t help it, if I have inspiration, it has to go somewhere, and it just doesn’t seem right to lock it away in a notebook where I will be the only one to see it until I die. Poetry is meant to be seen, to be read, to be heard.

Simple explanation, the narrator is trying to get rid of her past. And in reality, this does work. If you have a particularly bad memory and an object from that moment, if you bury it, it really does give the impression of being more free. Just a thought.

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About Mattie J.

My name is Mattie J. Hamilton, and I am seventeen years old. I live in a cute little house in the country in Southern Indiana, and have lived there my entire life. I self-published two books of poetry a few years ago, but I much prefer writing fiction of poetry, journalism, or any other sort of writing. I'm somewhat new to the blogging world, and I may come off as a bit of an ameteur, but hey, I am an ameteur. Proud of it. After all, I'm just a kid, and I have plenty of time to learn.

6 responses »

  1. I too am having troubles with my past,that is the whole reason for my blog. I write to free my thoughts of constraint as you. There is beauty in it all, even at our lowest point. Carry on my dear friend and express your freedom of your memories and pain.

    • I think everyone has parts of their past they would bury. But on the other side of the spectrum, we all have parts that we would never want to forget. Thanks for visiting ^_^

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