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Literature Text
I confess
That I am not myself
I am the faceless waste of my influences
That I obey the media like a god
And society like a saint
I confess
That I am one of the crowd
I do what is expected
What is wanted and what is told
Even when I know it is wrong
I confess
That I cannot think
I am a walking machine
That has given up freedom and thought
For the sake of a simpler life
I confess
That I hate based on color
On sex and religion
Unless it is popular
To say I love instead
I confess
That I am a murderer
A thief and a scoundrel
I witnessed the greatest crimes of our time
And stood by in silent admiration
I confess
That I hated because they told me to
I killed because I wanted to
And lied because I could
But worse, I let others do the same
I confess
That I'd do anything they'd allow
And everything they'd want
That I prefer to hate myself
Then for them to hate me
All this I confess
Do you?
That I am not myself
I am the faceless waste of my influences
That I obey the media like a god
And society like a saint
I confess
That I am one of the crowd
I do what is expected
What is wanted and what is told
Even when I know it is wrong
I confess
That I cannot think
I am a walking machine
That has given up freedom and thought
For the sake of a simpler life
I confess
That I hate based on color
On sex and religion
Unless it is popular
To say I love instead
I confess
That I am a murderer
A thief and a scoundrel
I witnessed the greatest crimes of our time
And stood by in silent admiration
I confess
That I hated because they told me to
I killed because I wanted to
And lied because I could
But worse, I let others do the same
I confess
That I'd do anything they'd allow
And everything they'd want
That I prefer to hate myself
Then for them to hate me
All this I confess
Do you?
Literature
Becoming Somebody
No one thinks about the complexity
of what it takes to be a person.
It is so hard to wake from the perplexity.
Will we let our beings worsen?
What will living this life take?
In a blurred sea of endless confusion,
will we just let our bodies shake?
We hide our reality in a deep illusion.
Anger, shame, and anguish, we feel it all.
Are we losing ourselves in this storm
as we watch the darkness fall?
Or are we trying to find our true form?
Amongst the crashing waves, we are blind
until we take hold of our own connection.
A connection to this world in which we are defined.
Found, you may see, so add this trial to the collection.
Definition o
Literature
A Relationship
"Why are you so angry at me!?"
"You should know."
Literature
What I Meant.
*Accidentally bumps into you*
-What I said-
Oh, I’m so sorry..!
-What I meant-
I just wanted an excuse to hold your hand
Cause even though I do the very best that I can
I can’t face this world alone
There’s too much I don’t understand
*Accidentally holds your hand*
-What I said-
Is everything alright?
-What I meant-
What should I do if I can’t tell between
The reality of life or if it’s just a dream?
I can tell the world is real enough
It’s just not as pretty as it seems
*Accidentally hugs you*
-What I said-
Are you okay?
-What I meant-
I guess I never wanted to believe
That something I helped
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quick poem I wrote
© 2013 - 2024 AMBM-DA
Comments62
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Overall
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Originality
Technique
Impact
You have a great idea going, and it flows quite well from beginning to end, starting small but vast and general, then ending big but in a small, concentrated point. The feeling of air gradually being sucked into a singularity in the lungs of the guilty is admirable.
The following are suggested revisions:
Verse 1: "That I obey the media like a go and society as a saint" should be rewritten to make it easy to read only once. I read it twice because I did a double take on the comparison. Who is the god, you or the media? While contextually obvious, it's easier for the reader to not break the flow of the poem by stopping and rereading if you used a metaphor instead of a simile here. I.E: "That I obey the media god and pray to the saint of society."
Your style jumps from artistic to vernacular from verse to verse, which is a little jarring sometimes. You use words like Saint and God and Walking Machine, idioms like "a thief and a scoundrel" in some verses. Then in others, you don't use imagery at all, especially where it might matter if you did. For instance the second to last verse --- "I confess that I'd do anything they'd allow ... Then for them to hate me" --- it has a lot less impact because the imagery in the other verses steals the attention away from the ending. Space out your imagery a little more strategically and the words will guide the reader's subconscious a little better.
I feel like some of the verses are a little redundant. In your style of poetry, less means more because the longer you read the piece, the more numb you become to the words as they strike you. You've counteracted this well by using your small-to-large and loose-to-dense approach but you can do even better by using greater word efficiency. Raise the content-to-wordcount ratio!