The Glaring Mistake

June 21, 2017
By timeisacuriousthing BRONZE, Brookline, Massachusetts
timeisacuriousthing BRONZE, Brookline, Massachusetts
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

The silent mirror stands by and watches me, he magnifies
my reticence and my minuteness.

i am weak, i am predictable,
i sound my pathetic meep under the screams of man.

The last gate slams shut,
It boxes my mind in away from the rest,
inconsequential to any outside the confined walls,
It shuns me to darkness and insanity.

i drown in the maw of Fear, i squirm and feel for the warmth that is not there,
only Coldness remains.
i release my life in torrents, spiraling in inky streams.

i subject myself to the Void to soak myself in the shadows i linger,
To numb myself to the “what ifs” that whisper in my ear
If You want me again, look for me in your insecurities.

You will hardly care who i am or what i mean,
So i will be indifferent to You as well,
And sit swirling in your pool of tears.

Failing to seek me at first give up,
Missing me one place search in a miser’s fall,
i stop somewhere, waiting.
But ask yourself this:
do You even want to find me at all?


The author's comments:

I wrote this poem for a school project. We had to write a response poem to a poem written by a notable American poet. I chose Walt Whitman's "Song of Myself" (Part 52). I wanted to contrast Whitman's strong individualism of the "Yawp" with a teenager's insecurities that box them into their own minds. 


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