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TheLizard

Up From Here

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This poem is kind of a mess, but so am I, and it's very, very personal. Still, I feel like I have to share it with somebody.

I lived in a world where everything was real

Except for me. I couldn’t help but feel

That I was inconsequential,

That I had no potential

To ever understand why people would

Want to exist with each other, how they could

Tolerate the tediousness of the world

At large. I was like a scroll unfurled

But with no words written down. I stood shaking

Shrouded in barely concealed nakedness, waking

Each day wishing I had died in the night,

Regarding life itself with absolute fright.

People would ask “Have you no soul?â€

But it’s easy to lie when the answer is “No.â€

So I cowardly crept into a bottle of pills

Hoping I would not come out. It still gives me chills

To think that my mind betrayed me that way,

Just a few short months ago, though it feels like years. Today

I can at the very least say I am happy I failed,

Though I still live in the shadow of the night I derailed.

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I have read this a thousand times but have not been sure how to respond. I am no literary genius so I have nothing to say about the form or verbage of the piece. However, it makes me feel something deep down inside and for that reason it is successful.

I love you, TimLizzy. I really do.

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Very personal. Like Peaches, I don't know what to say ... I really don't think you are looking for a critique. But it is most definately an illustration of confusion, and despair, and more. An illustration of a place from which there is mostly definatly no place to go but up. I love you too kid.

As far as the poem goes, I don't think that it is such a mess. It's makes me feel, and it paints a picture, and that is what it should do.

Edited by Guest

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Great piece. So many people can relate to this as I do, some probably even more!

Fantastic job!

Tim: If you're needing someone to talk with who's been there and doing that, PT me.

Just a heads up: don't wait till it's too late. Talk with someone about how you feel. Some people aren't good listeners, but there are people who wanna help. My family never speaks of such things so I found outside help. Trust me... don't wait.

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Perhaps the most effective form of poetry is the exposition of personal pain and the learning that results from its acknowledgement. This is a piece to hold onto for the rest of your life, Tim. Someday you will reread it and, like an early explorers map that is interesting to compare to a modern satellite image of the same region, be in awe of the divergences and similarities your road has afforded you.

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Wow Tim...I'm no expert on poetry, but I do know that these words that expressed your personal pain were put so well, that I totally felt your pain also...You are a very talented young man....I'm sure your poetry helps you find some comfort...you have a wonderful skill Tim, and I hope you continue writing...

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Wow. You know, I don't visit this site too often, but when I do it's always really exciting when I see you've posted something new in this section, Tim. I don't know much about poetry, but this piece has a real bold honesty about it. You are very talented! :)

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