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Tue 15 Apr, 2003 12:30 pm
White Walls
Four black gates enclose me,
As in my room I stand,
Starring out at distant memories
Of things I could never be
Sterile walls surround me,
as on my bed I sit,
pungent antiseptics
remind me I'm unclean
Four white walls entrap me,
as on my bed I lie,
alone with my worst enemy,
my mortality.
Just a little.
If you're going for "crazy" you're a bit off the mark. This is more the brooding of a person who is depressed than the ranting of a lunatic.
I'm not saying I don't like your poem, quite the contrary. I'm just saying you don't write like a crazy person.
NOT CRAZY A BIT, qvapid.
Just the same unforgiveness to yourself, we all feel---
for our limitations.
GOOD STYLE
Thanx Jackie. I hope that I will mature in my style, whatever it is.
Love the pome ([/I]sic)
Craziness is pejorative. I like crazy meself.
Be yourself and let yourself be.
I find it easiest to be myself by wrapping my inner personality in metaphores. A lot of peole dont know who i really am. I wonder, what is everyone's opinion about me and who they think I am.
i like this poem its kinda true in a way. well to me.i dunno why but to me it sounds like you are saying that your brain is the instatution and that your feelings are are the bars and the things that keep averything in and your looking out and thninking back knowing nothing could bew the same again. i think this way because you seid you use metophores to explain your self but im probly wrong its just proof that avery one reads a poem a little diffrent =) any way i still like the poem.
It's soo true. I love how people can think poets like emily dickensen are talking about nature when they actually write about death in soo many ways.
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