My sister had been bothering me since yesterday to write a poem for her.
It’s not for a grade apparently, but for some other purpose, but I at first was reluctant.
You see I haven’t written a poem in years. And honestly, I’ve never seen myself as a poet even when I dabbled in it at a younger age. Yet, I did the favor.
I didn’t know what to write about – it could be any topic. That didn’t narrow anything down. So I didn’t give it much thought and just began writing. My only guidelines were that it must be in iambic pentameter, 15 verses, 10 lines.
I don’t know how great a job I did, but I figured if I took the time to write it I might as well post it.
I would actually appreciate some constructive criticism. Although I am not sure if I’ll be picking up poetry again anytime soon. It still scares me a bit even though I do enjoy reading it.
Here it is:
Perhaps it’s true: the truth is held inside
But it cannot be seen, for eyes are blind
What’s in front of them they choose to deny
Their worlds are built around a fragile lie
It is easier to smell the pretty
Flowers, to watch the birds and bare a smile
At the first sight of gloom: eyes turn, feet run
For their worlds cannot fall apart: too young,
they laughed: Too young, too young, too young they sung
Not a care in the world the young ones had
It didn’t matter if others were sad
For them life was only meant to be glad
And so when all the flowers had wilted
And all the birds had left, smiles now tilted
No choice, but face the truth, when lies jilted
My husband asked me what it’s about. I am not a hundred percent sure myself as weird as that sounds, but I think it has to do with how careless we can be. We consume ourselves in worrying about what’s going on in our worlds. And we forget to think of others.
Sometimes we are frightened by the atrocities in the world and decide to avoid facing them or doing something about them, but at some point the facades we construct around ourselves will fall and we will have no choice but to do something about what’s going on around us. Those “things” can refer to hundreds of issues, not any in particular.
What do you think? Any other interpretations?