Am I a martyr, I think so
I hold onto sins with strong fingers
Because I care too much
To dump them in others’ laps
I feel I should be different
I always worry about being who I am
I look on the other side of the fence for guidance
But forget that I’m on a side as well,
Do others look at me?
Do the sinful misers wish to unload on me?
Am I that greener grass, the grass I see them as?
I worry too much about self portrayal
I deny my core, and for what?
I am me, I will always be me
No matter how much the years change me
We all peer through the fence,
Study our neighbor’s grass with intricate eyes
Sigh in envy of the things we lack
We’re so focused on what’s missing
We forget to look inside ourselves
We forget that we are on a side of that fence
A contest entry
- This Tastes Like Tragedy by Friday.
527 points, ended May 21, 2007, 23 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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This seemed almost psydo-psychological in nature. Was that a deliberate thing? I think this would work better with a bit more punctuation and a few less questions. Asking questions in a poem is always an iffy thing. It will either work brilliantly, or not at all.
Anyway, thank you for entering.
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