I Cry Over Meaningless, Small Things
Ever Changing 2006 (Texas)
I cry over meaningless, small things.
Like how the grass has the ability to feel like home only for a moment.
That before the pruritus settles in, I lay and feel as if I was the soil myself.
Like how the sky paints pretty pictures for me.
That is how it communicates; not with clouds or the weather.
By its color alone.
It draws my attention and I can help, but be selfish.
Selfish enough to think that the sky creates such beautiful images just for me.
Only for me.
Life so simplistic, yet so complex.
Sometimes I grieve the fact that I wasn’t born a tree.
Lively and possibly full of growth.
Set to only give and never receive.
To be an organism only gardeners, artists, and poets could understand.
I wouldn’t have to prove myself.
Prove myself worthy of being.
I could just show my pretty petals and I would put onlookers into a trance.
Until I would unfortunately welt, but even then, I would somehow still be beautiful.
Even when I’m dead, I will still be beautiful.
Even when you are dead, you will still be beautiful.
In life, death, and the in-between, we are all beautiful and worthy of being.
About this poem
I wrote the poem after watching a Studio Ghibli film, Princess Mononoke, it's my favorite movie of all time. From the scenery to the characters to the man vs nature theme, I tried to turn the emotions I got from watching that movie into this poem.
Written on April 19, 2023
Submitted by nascere555 on May 16, 2023
- 1:08 min read
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Quick analysis:
Scheme | XXA BXXXBB XBXXX ACXDDDC |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic heptameter |
Characters | 1,111 |
Words | 227 |
Stanzas | 4 |
Stanza Lengths | 3, 6, 5, 7 |
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"I Cry Over Meaningless, Small Things" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 27 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/161083/i-cry-over-meaningless,-small-things>.
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