PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE CONTINUING. This is not actually a suicide note. I am not thinking about committing suicide. Please do not worry, the inspiration behind this all was I was wondering what my note would be like at this current point in time. If the current stresses got to much. They are nowhere near that though. If you are thinking about it, please get help from others before you do. This poem is long, therefore it will be sectioned up into chapters which will probably be posted irregularly. Thank you @[member="shinygiratinaz"] for being a great editor for this. If this is read I'm probably dead Hopefully, not to soon My neck on a wire Or by someone's ire Most likely my fault too Why? You might be asking Who? You're probably wondering The fault all lies on me My answer will be vast, And written in the past So for now we'll let it be This is MY last note after all; My mind and heart shall speak true So dear ones, both big and small I want to speak about everyone one of you My life, my heart, my fucking mind All have been altered by those listed For better or worse, through the daily grind I end it all so twisted To give you a glimpse of my self doubting mind Each description will not be named You may think your bio is easy to find But nobody's doubt is tamed Shall we begin?
Smart move, putting that disclaimer at the top. Would have gotten kind of tense in here otherwise. One clever thing I noticed in this poem (which may have even been an accident, in which case you're so clever you're doing it even if you're not trying) is your choice of metering. First half is four stanzas of three lines each, second half is three stanzas of four lines each. And still, with the unmatching number and length of stanzas, you have made available a very clear halfway point. There's even a nice thematic shift at that point, like you have two separate serial poems that mesh so well together. The first half-poem is me asking what I'm reading and why, second half-poem is you telling me what I'm reading and why. It all paints a very pleasing and cohesive image. I really only have one and a half small complaints here. First is that the sixth and seventh stanzas both make use of the same -ind rhyme back to back and both use "mind" in that rhyme. I understand this is all about a psychological pain and mind is a necessary word, but using it to almost rhyme with itself kinda threw me off a bit. Second, the half-complaint, is in the sixth stanza, my "fucking mind". I totally understand the choice of words to add impact to the pain and difficulty of it all, but some readers might see it as a cop-out easy way to add more emotion. I for one would have done something like "my own mind" or "my singular mind", something to emphasize the "mine, mine, mine" you have going on. "These are my problems, not yours! Sure, the word choice makes my problems seem a little smaller now, but I'm making sure you realize that they're not yours or anyone else's, but mine alone". But that's just a half-complaint, a stylistic choice to be made by the poet. In a way, despite the stresses and misery that go into motivating something like this, I'm still looking forward to the subsequent entries. Keep up the good work, unless you don't feel the urge, in which case... that's also good? (sorry if you don't want comments in the thread, I'm okay with you getting a mod to delete this if you don't want comments here)
Naw man it's cool. I like your points and compliments even though I don't understand a lot of the things you are saying. I should probably clarify/explain a few things. I am not a poet, or even a story teller. This is a first for me, and even a bit of a surprise that I would suddenly do this, but I found the urge and the words. I'm surprised I still have the ability to continue it. Usually I'll start and then stop, not even able to force myself. But yeah. Something else that should be said is that one of the reasons I wrote it and it's written like this is because it's helping with my stress. It probably won't have much of a proper structure or wording. The way I write it, and the words I use are how it felt most comfortable and relieving (if that's the right word to use). Now don't worry, I'll definitely make it sound the best I can, but it's probably going to sound improper. However I will keep in mind what you said. Thank you kindly for the words
The first of which I speak of Seems misguided most Behind the bright exterior Hides a worried ghost A level of cleverness Rivaled by a few Yet only celebrates others Which leads him askew Walking towards greatness Where he will explore the sky But still kept grounded By himself through others eyes Quick to praise others To the point of exhaustion Yet hides his own feats For the fear of corruption To the one with little pride My last words to you Fret not on pleasing the most Walk in your own shoes Have faith in your own willpower And march to spot one You've proven yourself to us Now stand up and run Don't be stalled by my passing I took an easy path out I paid the 30 silver But don't you follow this route
The second one chosen Lays lost in fables Led by envious lust They're not quite stable With false tears and ire She tears into all When a problem arises Someone will fall These words I have written Mark her soul wicked Although her intentions Are much less twisted Motivated by love But blinded by greed Her heart is tied to him Never to be freed Many despise her Fearing puppets on strings Many are blinded Seeing only a fling The solution to be learned From this dead man's advice Let go of your desire Or else pay its price Your beauty will bring many So fear not of spite Make sure of their intentions You'll find one who's right And the veil has been lifted
The third of those written One known to excel His body is stubborn His head is as well He bends not for others Like an elder elm But if there's one stronger He'll be overwhelmed Unable to adapt Or just unwilling So all his problems Are self fulfilling Yet with all that grit Lies a warm heart A wonderful soul A work of art And like a sculpture Of flesh and bone There's still more to chisel Out of this stone With every challenge The shape is made Then given detail With a little aid And soon, perfection Cleaned of all dust While I'm in the dark Left there to rust
The next to walk in I find her puzzling. Some call her lovely; I call her troubling. The puppet master, Holding strings without ends; With marionettes, That I don't trust as friends. Or a spider queen, Weaving your web of lies; Entangling all, Using us like lost flies. Whatever the case, I suspect nothing good. A hidden motive, A viper in a hood. With looks of disdain, And a critical tone, Yet not towards others; Reserved for me alone. And with all that spit, I call her a friend still, For doubt still haunts me. Should I wish her ill will? While I tie my noose, I see all my mistakes; Did my mind blind me? Did I cause my disgrace? And the veil has been lifted
While I continue to fail In both body and mind There's one all but forgotten The worst to leave behind Greatness in both soul and wits I'm glad to call her friend She tried to save me from sin Until the very end Filled with compassion and pride With a touch of hardass And she is quick on the draw From a tongue spilling sass However she is human And therefore far from perfection Because some she gives too much And others can't find affection When with those who are loyal She'll give them her all To the point of exhaustion And risking a fall When next to those she abhors She speaks with malice Vicious in both words and tone She's viewed as callous Despite her strong emotions I will love her still For her smile kept me warm And bolstered my will
I'd like to point something out for you. If the title of any work of literature makes me want to check it out, it's box-office material. I usually don't read much and I skip maybe 99 of 100 titles. Yours was in the 1% that got my attention. I didn't know what I was about to read, but that title is brilliant.
There's only one man That rivals the third in pride But instead refutes All his flaws in others eyes Excusing his faults Claiming them to have been just When given critique He responds with disgust Surrounded by fools They put him high on a stand Obscuring all help A twisted tomb made of sand Buried far beneath the surface Where he hides from his mistakes But not locked away forever For patience is what it takes Those pillars in the sand Will soon be nothing but dust But those who keep loyal Stay sturdy through time and rust They act as a paved road To assist in his travels But only he may walk And then trudge through the gravel Step by step and every movement The sand begins to settle And while you start your flight I fall like a spring petal
This... is art. This is beautiful. It's like a fragile wire stretched taut to the point of breaking, like a delicate glass sculpture on the verge of tipping. I... strange as it is, this has provided me with inspiration for my own life. Thank you... for sharing your words
Thank you kindly for the comment. Not gonna lie, I wasn't expecting this kind of reaction, but I dig it. As I've said before, I'm not the poetic type, so to this kind of reaction to my work is very lovely
Even the darkest minds Have a hidden light But for some souls it's why I'm losing this fight The intention for good Can lead you to hell Their purpose was to guide But that's why I fell He who tried for order Put rage in my head Then tried beating it out But fanned the flames instead She who wanted control Put chaos in place A conscious turned maelstrom But a smiling face In the eye of the storm Holds a boy in tears For those who surround him Are his greatest fears And so today I stand I'm speaking to you Still drowning in sorrow Still a shade of blue My love for you is forced Designed and imposed But these thorns are still sharp On this plastic rose
Fire burns strong And it glows for man A tool for life Making art from sand Using his skills He always survives Still marching on To see the sun rise Fate found his goal And shields him from loss Until the end Where he'll drown in doss Fire burns strong And can engulf men A dual edged sword A path to the end Irony is cruel And for some it's grim All things have a price So his skills betray him His body breaking The timer ticks away With an unknown end So let's count down the days Fire in a man Symbolizes his soul Stays strong from his will But burns quicker than coal
The Final Stand If this is read I'm probably dead Now free to roam the stars A bullet to the head The floor painted red But now I'll wander far A life full of spite My soul is without light But my name will live on This story is now closed A book full of woes But my tale shall see dawn "Why stop it here?" My light is away "Why not get help?" I will never say I've reached my stop A journey full of climbs and falls My path was rather short And I hear my final call I leave this world to you all The people I've loved and feared For I'll still see your smiles Behind this veil of tears
You asked me to read this so here we go. The rhyming scheme changed between the first post and the rest. Like Zero said, it was smart to use the shift in metre to also make a twist (or was it the other way around?). You seem to use rhyming half of the time. Sometimes stuff rhymes, sometimes not. I'm still undecided whether this was meant to be or not. But that's okay. The reader is never supposed to know all what was meant. Own interpretation is important, too. It was really smart to use the scheme of the first set also in the last. All in all: your language use is gorgeous. For a couple posts, it seemed like you were listing people, yet I was not sure who it is. I've read the reactions people had to your work. If you wished to, you could write really inspirational work, to encourage those who feel neglected, depressed, or otherwise alone. Your language would be perfect for that. Occasionally, I saw glimpses of the hope you could install in this poem already. Great work. Keep on writing. Love, Iridescent.
I am not going to pick out your good and bad because i am not good at writing as compared to that greatness and hence does not have any right to say something. Whole poem is great and ending is awesome. You really did the great work. Awesome!