From “Angsty Poetry”
Okay, time for some Angsty Poetry! When I get really low, this is what I tend to do…especially if it’s a specific low. This was written during a very dark time in my 20s while trapped in a toxic and emotionally abusive relationship. (Life certainly got better for me, though! And I do pray that that individual has found a better path.)
I feel like this is probably one of my stronger angsty poems, but I plan to share the good and bad alike. Process is important. We writers and authors try our best to only put out a quality product (as well we should), but sometimes it’s helpful to show that we still value our subpar work, too. It’s all part of the journey. I do like this one, though.
Anyway, I give you angsty Deidre:
A fresh young tiger, full of life!
New to fear and new to strife.
Uncertain ‘bout the days ahead
Succumbing to a sense of dread
That pierces like a hunter’s knife.
A pacing tiger, biding time.
Will a door not open and right this crime?
O! Bounding free into the wild
To live her days as would a child,
Exploring life while in her prime.
An angry tiger, eyes ablaze
Fixed past the bars, a threat’ning gaze.
Accusing all the passers by
Of hind’ring any chance to fly,
Ere the body cedes and the mind decays.
A wistful tiger, eyes ablur
With thoughts of what was robbed of her:
Prowling by the river’s side,
That primal high when fangs pierce hide,
The chance to nestle a young cub’s fur.
A cagèd tiger, the old clichè.
An agèd tiger, wasting away.
Can hardly recall the wilds of yore,
Falls heavily into a heap on the floor,
A victim of despair and dismay.
A broken tiger, withered and old.
No glimmer in those eyes once gold.
Forgotten, the way the world beckoned her;
Beyond recall, a contented purr.
She lay on the floor, lifeless and cold.
[Disclaimer: The source image for my feature illustration was of a perfectly healthy tiger in blissful repose. No animals were harmed in the crafting of this blog.]
Thanks for reading.