This was my first attempt at structured poetry, as opposed to my usual 'spontaneous overflow of emotions' style. The Indian haiku, according to my English sir, is a lazy form of 5, 7, 5, 6. I had this already written before I realised I should probably google it to confirm it's existence, but by then I didn't care anymore. It is very not up to standards, as a consequence, so please skip this poem when you decide to judge me. :P It is only up here to give me peace of mind... but on the off chance that you DO enjoy it, by god let me know!
feisty games of catch-the-crook
sipping lemonade
on a hot summer day
And memories show
a little girl in pigtails
Eyes wide as she saw
what it meant to be grown
Happy times seemed far
yet every moment gold
friendships strengthened so
she might leave with no tears
Their cherished apple
They doted on their darling
Then she became a rite
wilding. They let her go.
She flew so far, free,
before the frost sent her back
running. Into a wall
that separated life.
It was misery
to her, that other side of
the wall was horror, but the wilding grew brave
She stayed and she fought.
A swan nearly grown she returned
to her family
to her dear friends of old
More childhood now spent
as opposed to long ago
Yet the world denied
just what she desired. Oh!
Time flown returns not
what's lost can never be found
She makes the best of
the time she has left now.
She puts down this pen
she has better things to do.
Goes back to her books
bids a farewell to you.