She waited for break to finally come, for she had not been
home in so long. Days seemed to stretch on and on. She counted the days until it
finally came. It was a long drive to say the least but when she walked through
that same door she felt relief. Her mother said something she did not want to
hear. “Family is coming, my dear” I fear. For this means no true break at all. The
moment has no relief, no; none at all. Now I count the days till I can be back.
I guess I better pack, to return to my crazy life only to count the days once
more.
You've got the prose part down, but I'm hard-pressed to identify the poetic elements here. What poetic elements would you point to if I asked?
ReplyDeleterhyming " dear and fear"
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