Villanelle

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Awkwardo

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For class a couple months ago, I had to write this kind of poem called a "villanelle." Writing villanelles is incredibly fun, but getting them to sound remotely good is quite the challenge.

For your enjoyment, here's the villanelle I wrote. It's quite crappy and makes no sense, but even I have fun trying to derive some weird meaning from it.

Gentle arms flail in the wind.
The tree’s leaves, a sea of green.
Strong, steady, they pull me in.

Lazily, they brush my skin.
Soft branches, my hair they preen.
Gentle arms flail in the wind.

I look up, and my mind is made to spin.
Taller a tree than ever I’ve seen.
Strong, steady, they pull me in.

The top barely brushes my chin.
A being so weak, so lean.
Gentle arms flail in the wind.

The gnarled bark becomes a friendly grin.
No longer does it resemble a spleen.
Strong, steady, they pull me in.

Up you stand, and suddenly you’re my twin.
Of the forest, you become queen.
Gentle arms flail in the wind.
Strong, steady, you pull me in.

 
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