Mayhem
By skinner_jennifer
- 986 reads
This writing is based on the Film:- The Hunger Games.
What sound I heard...I did not know;
turning, reaching for the child,
keeping eyes fixed as the hunt begins,
far off cries stirring emotions;
weeping for the young, hidden in the
depths of this wretchedness, intent on
creating mayhem; what futile madness
brings us to this point?
Surely we meagre
should be given compassion,
knowing the weak die young
gives no equanimity,
this washed out ragamuffin;
my entrusted charge
sings a melodious tune...
her belief of my courage spurs me on,
“Hush!” I whisper, “Listen!”
The crack of a twig springs me to action;
we fly like the wind...each sound stimulating
the senses to act on impulse, feeling the wind in our faces.
Three or four days...who knows when this mission will end,
or if our demise with life's fragility will be taken...
light appears from distant scrub;
focus of our goal as death creeps upon us,
arrows show no mercy, they splinter the skin;
for a passing moment we flinch...
before we're veiled by a flood of blackness,
flesh weak before the light goes out.
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Comments
I don't know the film Jenny,
I don't know the film Jenny, but your poem works so well anyway. I really liked it.
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Still trying to catch up,
Still trying to catch up, Jenny, but unfortunately am swimming against the tide lately.
I really enjoyed this one, although, I too, am not familiar with the film, but I was drawn in from the start...the opening stanza, compelling.
Have a peaceful evening, Jenny...and here, I am waiting for some rain so that I can get some time off, at least, from watering my veggies
Tina
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