“Cruelty”

Cruelty was the first poem I ever wrote. In a creative writing class my senior year of high school, our teacher (Mrs. Godby, aka “The Queen”) gave all of us photos that we were to take as a springboard for a small piece. Mine was a black and white photo of a bird on a telephone line at night with full moon in the background. The viewpoint was from the ground, and the only part of the photo not covered by treetops was the full moon and silhouette of the bird. My first thought was “It’s like I’m under a canopy of shadow..”  I liked the way that sounded and spontaneously decided to turn the writing exercise into a poem.

Lost in hopelessness and confusion I stay,
My once vibrant world now covered in dreary gray.
For here I lie below this great canopy of shadow,
With no true light to discern black from white.

At last a hole in the canopy I sight;
There is a bird on its perch in the pale moonlight!
Hark, my despairing heart, to the hope in its sacred art!
I strain my ear to find the sounds my heart must hear.

Stop sorrowful suffering with soft sweet songs!
Why do you not give my heart that for which it longs?
The hole begins to close; the bird grants my heart no repose,
And its delay has now added to my heart’s dismay.

Lost in hopelessness and confusion I stay,
My once vibrant world now covered in dreary gray.
For here I lie below this great canopy of shadow,
With no true light to discern black from white.