This is my masterpiece
I have poured my heart and soul into this
I must hand this in
The pounding in my chest will not cease
Every metaphor
Every juxtaposition
Was executed with
A precise description
She is going to hate it.
That witch of a woman
Who gave her power
I believe she is not human
She wields that red pen.
Like it came from hell
Burning every word
Slashing through with that demon quill
I feel sick
The deadline is today
I can go to the doctor
Get a note so I can stay away.
Now I feel hot and cold
Even from a distance
She is sucking out my soul
I can do this
Anxiety be damned
There is a bathroom across the hall
I pray no one is in the stalls.
I looked at it one more time
And pleaded that this would survive
I did not hear the raven today
Maybe this one will live; I hope and pray
You see words come to life.
The minute it is written down
It breathes as you write the line
Like Mary Shelly wrote in Frankenstein
Here I go
With a quick pace
I’ll give it to her
As I stare at her in the face
I may be twelve
But I stand by my work
Who am I kidding
That red pen is going to hurt.
Rated for Everyone
Categories:
PoetryFia’s Frankenstein Experience
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I like the innocents to this. Great ink, friend.
Thank you, Nick. It is hard to see your work handed back with red marks on it.
Haha, well that was most of my school life back in the days.
Fia you showed her you are a masterful writer to bad she didn’t encourage that probably jealousy 💕
Thank you, Brenda
Tremendous work.
Thank you, Thomas
Beautifully penned, Fia. Appreciate you.
Damian
Thank you, Damian