Blanket
I have a blanket
A green and white strips blanket
It is my treasure
Night time is our own little world
It comforts me
It helps me forget stress
I fell in love with it
The smell
The texture
The warmth and cold
The history
Those are what I care about
Not even my parents can take it away
Not even my brother who tried to steal it
The 13 years of our journey
I figure
I can not sleep without it
Administrator said,
November 13, 2005 @ 4:19 pm
I’m looking for focus, details, and a personal voice in poems.
Your poem has a focus… your blanket!
Your poem has details.
Your poem has voice and I can tell that you are very attached to it personally.