Sonnet
Submitted by Anonymous on Mon, 01/25/2010 - 12:36
Submitted by melissa soland on Mon, 01/25/2010 - 12:32.
My brother, he became a statistic,
A number on a chart in someone's book.
Knowing they wanted to cut off his dick
He'd wake up some mornings afraid to look.
Suffering delusions from day to day.
Living in fear of the demons, he's been
Hospitalized again, a long term stay.
When he comes home, what state will he be in?
His state was a monster, impregnating
Unknowing women, at least a million
Now a million children has fathered
Forgetting that he was his mother's son
So on November fourth two thousand by
Nine my brother showed us all how to fly
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This is a great poem, and I
This is a great poem, and I like that it doesn't necessarily glorify him or belittle him; it simply tells. Also, the last couplet is perfect, and I quite like the metaphor.
-Hilary
Sad...
This is very powerful and sad. I really like the structure that you gave to this poem. It had a really good build up to the end.
structure
I appreciate that you commented on the quality structure. It felt a little mish mash to me, i was hoping it wouldn't come accross that way. Thanks, Melissa