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Life
Life…
Born into this world I felt new and fresh
Learning new things with different experiences meeting new people my life being full of hurt and pain, grinding me down slowly and slowly I felt strain and pain
Being young wanting to feel safe, I sit and dwell upon my pain.
Thinking once I use to feel happy waking up and wishing to be older to gain from the world, I wished and wished to be older so that I could afford my own toys and clothes. These things became irrelevant I became upset and in pain, physically? No mentally I felt the strain of society and how everyone has everything and I don’t even have happiness. I would do anything to be a small boy again and feel safe in the comfort of my childhood home, but was that safe? Growing up around hurt, anger and alcoholism I thought I was happy but this only affected me more without me even knowing the pain. Now as a young adult I sit back and feel more pain than ever I would give anything to go back to the days that may be thought of pain but I felt comfort. The happiness and the joy of waking up and not having a stress in the world just what toy I will play with today…
Oh childhood where did you go and why didn’t you stay….
Style / type:
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity):
Please use care (this is a sensitive subject for me, do not critique harshly)
Review Request (Direction):
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words:
try to read with flow and emotion as this is my life, I want the reader to feel the emotion and pain
Editing stage:
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Comments
Eumolpus
Wed, 2018-09-26 18:19
My take
Very strong and emotional prose. There is to me in which prose becomes poetry in a unique new form first really attempted by Baudelaire. But it’s still a young literary form. Your writing is clear and well presented without the necessary metaphors that create poetic truth and poetic imagination. I think your writing is very strong. Not a poem
Eumolpus
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings