Yellow Walls

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With cream flavored hands,
She rocks her child
In the yellow-lit room
With a lullaby wild.

And the yellow walls
Speak in softer tones
As the babe is weeping
Through its poor bones.
Last edited by timjim77 on Thu Jun 05, 2008 5:56 am, edited 2 times in total.




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i like the varied pace. Its slow until the end and then speeds up, it added more of an effect.

Also; lullabye should be lullaby.
Real poetry are those with the best words in the best order

~~~~~~~~Mandy~~~~~~~~~




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fix "lullabye" and fix the rhythm on this line:

Yellow seeps through its bones.


otherwise, it was very good. i didn't catch the entire meaning, i'm sure, but i enjoyed in nonetheless.
i suppose rhyming poetry is catching on more. this certainly is leaving me behind. :)
Carpe Diem.




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The "lullabye" was intentional, was it not? If I understood the poem correctly, it fits quite well.



That's just what translation is, I think. That's all speaking is. Listening to the other and trying to see past your own biases to glimpse what they're trying to say. Showing yourself to the world, and hoping someone else understands.
— Ramy (Babel by R. F. Kuang)