LIKE

A world and a life of contrasts....

Like a primrose in the forest

Or a bluebell in the night,

Like the sun that sets at evening

With shadows instead of light,

Like the dying bird at dawning

Sans sound and touch and light…

Like a baby born in sorrow

With a heart that wouldn’t beat,

Like its mother filled with anger

That her life is not complete,

Like the fire that sparks to nothing

And takes away its heat….

Like a winter without snowflakes

Or a summer with no sun,

Like a people lost and lonely

And a promise not begun,

Like the broken-legged sprinter

Whose race has just begun….

Like that primrose in its forest

Lost amongst the trees,

Or a ship upon the ocean

Wrecked in angry seas,

Or the preacher’s failing faith

As he trembles on his knees….

Like life is lived by people

Who were born to merely die,

The graveyard of a city,

The hope that couldn’t cry,

The sun that falls to Hades

From its perch up in the sky.

Reviews

[Vatsal Rohilla (account..]

Well this is a very beautiful poem with constant use of similes and repetition. This reminded me of the poem "If", wherein the poet- Stevenson, I suppose; rectify me if I am wrong- repeats the word "If" just like the way you have repeated the word "like". I like your poem "like"! Well-written and keep writing.

[Peter Rogerson]

Thanks for your kind words. "If", though, was written by Rudyard Kipling.

[Vatsal Rohilla (account shifted)]

Thanks for telling me that, Peter.