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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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Posted

Wrote this sometime last school year...something like November 2001.

 

Lost Deep

 

Put on your face

dress in lace

leave not a trace

of dirt

 

Throw your voice

to the top of the hole

in grassy knoll

You're on top, I hear you

No, on bottom, I see you

 

No one cares about depth

No one sees it

I, yes I, find you

so very lost

 

Need you rope, while

friends give you shovel, pile

dirt on top of you, child

please stop digging

 

Need you hope, 'stead

buy you dope, friend?

drugs you alope, pretend

everything’s fine

while you

 

Put on your face

dress in lace

leave not a trace

of depression

 

Whitenoise

Posted

it appears I have posted this in the wrong area...my apologies.

 

I guess this should be posted in the Banquet Hall.

 

I guess I could use the loophole by saying it was posted on my own website? I dunno.

Posted

Erm... meow? Forgive me, as my spider sense of analogy is a little off. Was this poem about someone hiding their emotions? In any case, this is a fairly decent poem. As I am not one to revis my work after it has been posted, it would be hypocritical to ask you to edit it slightly. While I may not have understood it, the language in itself did convey a essage of some sort, one I am willing to discover when my brain decides to stop tingling.

 

"Spider senses Jingling! Ack! Christmas carols!"

Posted

Man, you got it pretty close. It was about my former girlfriend, who happened to be either suicidal or just masochist, and I got all upset because she didn't do anything to stop her life-threatening behavior. She was on prozac for depression, yet she was still drinking every weekend and doing ecstacy at raves (I found out all of this after we started going out). Needless to say, I got out of that situation pretty quickly. Didn't want to get sucked into that mess.

 

Oh, and sorry if it seems cryptic or anything...that's just my writing style.

Posted

Yeah, regrettfully I had.have some of the same tendencies. I just have bound all of them into promises, so I'm not allowed to hurt myself. I already am a sadomasochist, but I tied it all into pacifism and the promise to my girlfriend to not hurt myself. I did a lot of bad things with a clay knife... meow. Sadly, I don't regret it, but I could never apologize enough. For putter her through it, I am sorry, but for doing it to myself... that's a little different. I do feel guilty, mind you.

 

And the whole... suicidal thing... twenty-nine pills didn't kill me, so I must be pretty well off as far as health is concerned. Meep, I probably shouldn't have said any of that...

Posted

Very nice poem... The repetition of the first stanza as the last, with the change of the one word, was particularly effective in my opinion. As Damon said, it seems a little cryptic, but the general gist is gotten easily enough.

Posted

Thank you guys for your feedback.

 

small_scale_mind_games

Yeah, at the time I still thought I was going to get into music as a profession, so in my mind I was writing lyrics. That changed awhile back, as did my aspirations, and now I just think of it as writing poetry.

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