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The Hedge

The Hedge
By gingerbreadandcream on 03/28/2008
Viewed: 395
Reviews: 1
was a brutal distortion of both ideals
father had envisioned it the kind of hedge
that bordered estates of the affluent.
Mother had hoped for nothing more
Than for it to be healthy and pleasant.

Externally mother excused it
It was growing still, after all.
Internally, ideals vanished
As the hedge continued to grow

into an unruly thinness

Made up of tangled up branches
That left unsightly holes
Stuffed with
inside out chip packets
And hardening waste.

Not that they mattered.
They died soon after its birth
Leaving only
Commercial excess
To fill it’s holes.

Please rate my poetry-I''m an ambitious teen and I really want to improve

© By gingerbreadandcream On 3/28/2008 4:27:02 AM
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