Poetry from Brianna Dawn.

weeds and stones

they called upon us to learn
their ways, burn them in our minds
turn them into success
and when we surpass them,
criticisms and judgements are the last words
on their lips day in and day out,
about how things were once done
but now, somehow, they have changed
not owning up to the ripples they formed
when they threw rocks and stones
and left the thorns
not expecting for them to actually take root,
becoming seeds, growing more than
what they could have ever reaped
from their own weeds they had sewn
when they were asleep

written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: apprentice

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Basic HTML is allowed. Your email address will not be published.

Subscribe to this comment feed via RSS

%d bloggers like this: