Life is a silent world
in my eyes, I tend to not care
about what's next in my
world, of my fate.
I speak to myself with
observation of what my
clear clouded eyes can
see out this window.
Teens laughing along
the walk path, the sun
shimmers. There is a
glare blocking my view.
I'm distraught by what
I can barely understand,
happiness in the sun?
Do I really care?
Their joy won't last,
because the days change
....as we do.
Author notes
I had to read The Stranger for my 12 grade english class and this poem represents me trying to picture life through Meursaults eyes.
What did you think
Comments
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Awesome poem that your wrote.
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