A Metaphor For Me
I am
An undiscovered oilfield; dust driving dry over it. Covered in layers of crust, hidden from the world. So much untapped potential waiting to be
found.
A plum, its exterior tough with an extra sweet inside. I sit on the counter waiting to ripen. But usually, I am left there to rot.
A horror movie keeping people on the edge of their seats. Teasing screams from the throats of unsuspecting spectators.
Midnight; shining with constellations while others sleep. I keep watch over all while they dream, whether they know it or not.
I am
The Victorian age; regal and resilient, lasting many years.
A precision screwdriver; so specific in my uses. I can find my place in any small and delicate task.
A winter hat, covering cold heads on snowy days to keep the warmth in.
Purple; royal and striking, think of a sweet summer’s day in a vineyard. The plump grapes hanging from the vine in heavy bunches.
A Tigerlily; bent in the breeze but still beautiful. My fiery petals bringing feverish curiosity to some's eye.
A brook; bubbly and quick, I refresh the banks. The creatures of the forest stop to drink and I dutifully provide for them.
A wolf; fiercely loyal, leading my pack through a tough winter. I watch over them, even through the toughest of times. I do not dare to leave my
pack for it would mean certain death.
A children's book; overflowing with stories, radiating with illustrations, teaching little morals. I wait patiently on the tiny wooden bookshelf to
teach the next child my little moral.