A poem I wrote for a class project:
Four Skinny Girls
I see four girls on the street. I notice them in the crowd,
Out of all the other people in the square.
I see their legs. Legs like sticks.
Arms like nails. Straight. Long. Thin. Swaying in the wind.
They walk, arms linked with arms.
Walking like a wall.
A thin wall of sticks, ready to blown over, but easily put back.
Their bonds strong, but the parts weak.
They walk tall and proud,
Letting the sky and wind know they were ready.
Walking in the wind.
One of them trips. They all fall down.
Then they get up. And continue walking.
Tall, proud, skinny.
Skinny like sticks and nails.
Bonds like nails in wood.