Poetry

sonnet zero

so this is how she spends her days
well these are all my nicotine stains
and how she slipped into a maze
so lost that i can't feel her pains
her tiger's sleeping claws are sheathed
that docile eye just waits to gleam
chains of Es she's always wreathed
and when it wakes it reigns supreme
can you believe she always planned
to cry for help and shun our hands?
she crawls up to the cliff and stands
to see if all our fears are fanned
my skies are white with all her strife
pathetic fallacy        all my life

Gavin Thomas