Elena Plotkin Poems
I grew up with a bunch of others,
Just me with my sisters and brothers.
When I was younger, I was green and tough,
But as I grew older, I discovered life could be rough.
I changed and grew softer, some called me yellow.
But I was no coward, just a very cautious fellow.
Because where I come from you never know the day,
That your whole family gets eaten or just carted away.
What Hell Is This?
What Pain is this that never seems to go away,
but only grows stronger and more acute each day?
What Scars are these that never seem to fade,
but only reopen anew without aid of any blade?
What Nightmares are these that never seem to stop,
but only proceed to sprout up like some bumper crop?