Freedom Burning

Freedom Burning

A Poem by Elizabeth


this old house
creaks and groans
and settles in the dark

cobwebs and terror
hide in closets
and under the bed

lies lived here

but tonight
they are evicted

gasoline
cigarettes
sin ignited

freedom
burning

© 2011 Elizabeth


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Featured Review

Seriously. You have a way with creating images that haunt. I love your abrupt, gut-punching lines: "lies lived here". I love that you are telling a story without revealing everything and I can fill in the blanks myself. A good writer lets the reader decided some things for themselves. :D

Posted 11 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Elizabeth

11 Years Ago

Thank you for the generous praise. I have a thing about brevity, you may have picked up on that :P



Reviews

Reminds me of Independence Day , the song..
Sometimes these memories cannot even be burned away- can they?
Evicting lies.. yes, i do think so now that i think about it.
Very moving poem .

Chloe

Posted 14 Years Ago


"cobwebs and terror
hide in closets
and under the bed"
Hard to burn the old memories away. But it is cool to run for freedom and leave the B.S behind. A direct to the point poem. A excellent poem.
Coyote

Posted 14 Years Ago


strike a matchand watch it burn... then you can rise like a Phoenix through the ashes. Sharp and consice writting. So hard hitting and to the point.

Posted 14 Years Ago


i like the simple, straightforward way in which it's written. almost like prose, makes it very easy to read. and still it's magical. it has a lot of feeling. and can be interpreted in many ways

Posted 14 Years Ago


I love this ..the expression of "they are evicted tonight" says it all. Here's to freedom burning :) xx You penned the emotions well...xxx

Posted 14 Years Ago



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747 Views
15 Reviews
Rating
Shelved in 1 Library
Added on March 14, 2011
Last Updated on March 14, 2011

Author

Elizabeth
Elizabeth

Wonderland, TN



About
I am Alice through the looking glass...I mix my metaphors with barbiturates. I take my mania with a glass of milk and I rarely look before crossing the street. Walk a mile in my mary janes, friend. .. more..

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