I am nothing more than a worn record player.
Hear me skip.
You had said I was a Christmas present just dropped on your dirty doorstep.
You had said I was nothing less than a blessing from the twinkling stars.
I was wrapped in eloquent paper with beautiful pictures of angels.
I was wrapped with a smooth red bow.
Everything carefully placed.
A box of beauty and love.
It beheld one’s eyes
Perfect present.
Christmas.
The night’s happily married dancing couples had drawn names, and Hermes flew across the twilight sky, and dropped me with hollow well wishes.
They say it was such a frosty empty night- not even a shadow dare to dance in the flickering porch light I was dropt on.
As I waited on the doorstep my box’s no shaking sticker got thrown into the wind with the soft snow along with a few remaining broken mud brown leaves.
I was the frigid air’s moon and the single star seen through cloudy skies.
The trees that loomed above produced its first child and whistled in the wind.
I was at one point wanted- desired- loved.
For that one second.
Regrets on both sides.
I wonder if Perhaps I was broken when they dropped me at humanities’ doorsteps?
Maybe I was broken when King Jesus rejected my identity.
A present bought too hastily?
My mother gave only a sigh as she let me drift down the Nile River but it was only another scar.
I guess they smashed me like eggs when they juggled my potential future.
I am- I have been-
Falling,
Failing,
Behind.
Now- just look at me.
That is the least a stranger’s guilty, frigid eyes now do.
Look into my sleepy bloodshot burner coiled portals.
Look into my dehydrated, pail, failing skin, somehow being eaten by acne.
Look at the wrinkles forming beneath my eyes like heavy winter blankets.
I trade pills for the unmentionable.
Another oxycotine to ease the pain and help my teary eyes.
Another methadone to quiet my distraught sniffling.
Yes, I am young, and thank God- that is what sells.
A Broken Christmas present and I haven’t managed to repair myself.
I know what my mother really wished for.
-A diamond ring
I know what my dad now had wished for.
- passionate Shakespeare like love.
Instead kids would be their life sentence.
I am sorry I ruined your life.
Are you sorry you ruined mine?
In all of this- nobody considers my own wishes.
Thus, I go from room to room.
I go from person to person.
Begging for pity.
Begging for money.
Begging and fighting for survival.
I didn’t ask for this life.
I have done nothing wrong.
And yet, I have been given this indestructible misery.
Where is the justice?
A contest entry
- Darkness Falls.... by smntha..
450 points, ended May 25, 2007, 19 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 11 of 11
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Hmmm...this had a lot of elements in it that I liked, and a few that didn't stand out as much. I'm a sucker for a killer ending...and I don't know, maybe it's just me, but I didn't think the ending was powerful enough for the rest of the poem. I also wish there was something tying the record player image to the rest of the poem. So your ending and beggining didn't grab me. But I'm very glad I read the poem anyway, because what's in the middle was wonderful. You really had me seeing the imagery, and you wrote something that was dark, but that did bog me down with cliches. You worded it well, I got some chills. I love the sixth stanza. "Are you sorry you ruined mine?" rings out well against the statement before it. Overall, very nice.
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I didn’t ask for this life.
I have done nothing wrong.
And yet, I have been given this indestructible misery.
Where is the justice?
Well this is not the end of the world..this is the part of life and the huge and big life is ahead awaiting for your my friend..The need of the hr is for a proper palnning of your work and life..I am sorry If I am preaching my friend..your words are very much impressive and very spoken and this is the strength of yours my friend..If you use your strength of the muse..you can do wonders..wish you good luck..well done..
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Wow. Very long piece. I liked it though. It was really good. Good luck!!!
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metaphor metaphor metaphor, amazing amazing amazing. BRAVO this came out brutally strong and honest and i love it, it is so u lol. Keep the pen flowing!
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its so lovely...the metaphors indeed are trully amazing...its very.....lyrical...like...a greek tragedy....
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Do I dare say as the masses below say? Yes. But only because it's true. Rarely does emotion come across so brutally in poetry. In a matter of 50-odd lines you broke my heart.
But emotion alone wasn't what sold me on this. The conceit in which the entire poem was written was beautiful. Every metaphor, every image within the poem served the conceit well. I had begun to think the conceit was dead and buried. Maybe I just haven't been looking hard enough. Congrats.
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There are times when people around us don't understand who we really are - and make some judgments...but in our hearts, there's that longing for someone who can truly see through us... The poem is heavy in emotions. Something to ponder upon.
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My chin was on the floor. This brought home a real pain I know so well. Poems should make us feel something... it needs to budge our core somehow and this totally did!!
WOW... well done.
Emmy x
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Wow, this was written extremely well. Keep it up!
-animated ♥ -
this is a well written poem with such real emotion. i know very well the pain of drug addiction at a young age. i hope for the best, and i can see your honesty so clearly
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great poem.. i liked the structure and they way you formed pictures with your words.. this poem made me cry,
keep it up.. i love your stl;e of writing,..
thanks for sharing
<3
crisis
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