Today at Real Toads we are writing a poetry form called a Fold, about destructive weapons. This was my first time writing in this form, and I enjoyed it, though I am unsure how well I actually did. The form has 11 lines, and the first, fifth, and last lines have the same ending. Every other line rhymes with the first line. The poem also must include a reference to nature and its effect on the poet.
I think that there is nothing more destructive than words, especially the thoughts in people’s own heads. I am not feeling as hopeless and down as this poem suggests, but I definitely have been there.
Like a sneaky army arrive
Internal thoughts which criticize,
I’ve thought them dead but they survive
Strong blasts of positive affirmations.
When will I at happiness arrive?
There is a rain cloud outside, suddenly
Saddening my eyes, which were alive
Wit dancing light. A mind at war with
Itself — A countdown : five
Four three two one I will explode
If deliverance does not today arrive.