All responses welcome, except cruel ones. Thanks!

Cassandras
Trust a god to get creative with punishment.
Apollo could have chosen something simple—
Death or blindness, silence or pain— But no.
He gave her prophecy, then watched us die.

The histories claim "They didn't believe her."
As if disbelief could be just one thing,
As if we couldn't find a thousand ways
To turn from truth when truth means terror:
"Just joking," said generals, laughing,
While they filed our children's futures under "Humor."
"Women's sarcasm," declared scribes knowingly,
As they inked our doom in careful rows.

But I know now—after years of
Desperate talks with prophets, poets,
And one drunken oracle, that
Apollo's curse was mortally subtle:
She could speak only in poetry.

And we, we have never known
What to do with the truths of poets
When the horse is already inside our walls,
When the sword is already at our throats,
When the fire is already in our homes.

I wish it had a happier ending, but the truth of it is evident.

To be cursed to tell the truth always, but never believed, is a special hell.



Thanks for the poem.

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=TC

Thanks. Nice.

One thing I do when I reach this point is to perform the poem out loud.

"Perform" rather than read. Imagine you are reading to an audience, slow enough for them to really follow.

Do you like the sound? Do you like the rhythm? Do other words come to mind that feel better? Does the flow of meaning make sense?

Maybe you will feel the need for changes, maybe not. Maybe you will reject the changes you feel anyways.

Read it out load now, then let it rest.

Wait a day, a week, or whatever, and read it out loud again.

Of course, your process may vary.