Moulds and Shapes

Writing 201: Poetry

Day#3 Prompt: Trust, Form: Acrostic, Device: Internal rhyme

Deliberating, her eyes raised and hand stretched, she waits

I grab hold firmly. I don’t want her to let go now.

Shakily she stands, her quivering hands, my heart wearily pants

The anticipation of what will come, the weight of what is done.

Rotten memories cloud us both, they will mould us

Unwilling we are to let them shape us, we tighten our hold

Striving to change our shapes, to be what we want to be instead of what we must

Till at last we can learn to trust ourselves not to let the world shape us.

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3 thoughts on “Moulds and Shapes

  1. Awww, lovely. The words were so easy to roll off my tongue, the comma aptly place to slow me down. I like the use of your descriptive words/metaphors such as “rotten memories” and “quivering hands.” They brought more feeling to the poem for me.

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