Look:
You, who had cried
Who had lived in pretense all these nights
Who screamed and fought those falling tears
Those faked and silent expressions on your face
The words you spoke
The prose you wrote
You, who looked into the mirror
Who realised the irony of it all
Who took a knife and rope
Those verses you struggled to compose
The final draft
The finished craft
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I was actually proud of this poem when I wrote it, which was a few weeks ago, when I was very, very bored. And then I just had an inspiration. I thought it was rather urm... well, the meaning should be rather literal. But you can try guess what it's about.
Good poem, xue. The entire poem practically stinks of you and your personality (that's not a bad thing, mind) but it's a little angsty, methinks? Ah well. The ending is a bit jerky, but if that's the effect you meant for then it's fine. On the whole quite a nice poem, but the ending could be a little better.
Hmm.. Maybe. I mean, I usually leave it up to the reader. Yes, I've been having lots of problems with the ending.
But... ANGSTY? I mean, it was meant to be mocking and sarcastic, rather. Mocking angst, that is. Which makes everything an irony. Which was my point... But oh well. I'd been reading too much into nature poetry. -.-;;