Prompted Poem: Hate
A dying tooth
contorts your face
to an involuntary grimace
every time you take a bite.
A muscle, tight
and under-loved, sets your limits
for the race
before the gun goes off. Forsooth,
it is your very own
negligence
which will make you suffer most.
All the ire in your heart
for every dire, evil deed
upon you done
is pus and pestilence
so dense
that those old wounds could never heal.
What's left behind
once the soul has gone septic
is an apoplectic, malevolent husk,
an infection at the dusk of reason.
Thank the stars for Penicillin.
About the Creator
Jacob Sherman
The desire to read, and perhaps to write, should be cultivated and nurtured with care throughout every stage of life. For my part I will inject what strangeness and truth that I can into our written history. Expect no constants but honesty.
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insights
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
Eye opening
Niche topic & fresh perspectives
On-point and relevant
Writing reflected the title & theme
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