Monday, 14 March 2016


The hills stand straight 
as tall as statues 

The mountains 
crumble all the stones, 
and fall down 
behind me.

Rivers clash
against the stones 
and splash when the water 
crashes on the rocks.

cut like knives on my feet
The hills trip on the stones.

The sun reflects
on the hills and the river 
as the sun 
moves around the world.
When the sun 
reflects on the water, 
it shines likes a silver 
shimmer back at me.

But gray clouds look like 
they are going to spit on me.
And it feels so cold 
that it could snow.

Where is this dark place?
Why did the artist use all the texture?
Why does this painting make me feel sad?


In this poem I have been learning to use similes and metaphors. My poem is currently at this point unistructural because I have used one simile. My next step is to write more similes or a metaphor.

1 comment:

  1. Good job LILY I like
    The part that said the river clash
    Against the stones