Shadows of Ourselves

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No one saw it;
The shadow in the corner,
Thrown back by light,
But not by an object.

A single shadow,
A deformed black heart.
Why is it there?
No one notices.

The room emptied,
The deed undone.
Tiles marred,
With long black scratches.

Stabbed in the back,
A knife through the heart.
The sky is graying.
Where did we go?

Lost ourselves,
To petty worries.
Outdone ourselves,
With selfishness.

We break and each day,
We die just a little.
Infinitesimally; we don't notice.
We are the waking dead.

Ghosts of who we were,
In childhood, when the world was bright.
We've given ourselves up -
Unknowingly suicidal.

The shadow on our faces,
Like the one in the corner.
Empty as our souls,
Fickle as our minds.
"You can love someone so much...But you can never love people as much as you can miss them."




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I thought it was pretty good. Just a few things:

The last line in the first stanza doesn't go right. For one, it's too abrupt; you're shifting from being figurative to an outright explanation. For another, it throws the meter off. However, simply getting rid of it and replacing it with nothing else gets the job done right. The rest of the poem shows (rather than tells) the reader that you're not talking about an object, so why say it so point-blank?

You also have a lot of repetition going on here. For instance, the third line of the sixth stanza seems to be added in simply to make that stanza four lines long. It doesn't add anything and is just another way of saying what you already said in the second line of the sixth stanza. Be careful about sticking rigidly to a chosen format; when it works, it works extremely well. But it can take months if not years to properly craft such a piece.

Overall, it is good. You have a good extended metaphor going on here, and you conveyed tone and imagery very well.




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I have to say, honestly, that I don't understand this at all. Alright, that isn't entirely true. I understand the theme, I believe at least. The darkness in ourselves? well, actually, the shadow of ourselves, haha. The problem is that it's almost impossible for me to draw this conclusion from the poem. A few of your lines straight out tell it. I'm not even certain how this poem, as a whole, suggests that. Not to mention it doesn't affect me at all. It doesn't make me feel anything, or think anything. I'm not left wondering, "My muffin, where have we gone?" I just feel confused and lost.

I think the problem is that your idea isn't concrete enough for me to grasp, in full. It's very sketchy, here and there, up and down, but it doesn't actually sit in one place. You're talking about deeds, and dead bodies, and suicide, and rushing...so many things so quickly, that it is as if none of them matter. Instead of covering so many topics, why don't you pick one to be solid with, and use that one to display your theme with strength? It feel like you stretched it across too much, maybe. That's the only way I can think to describe it.

I hope this helps! I realize my review was probably too vague, too, so if you have any questions feel free to message me. Best of luck!
“It's necessary to have wished for death in order to know how good it is to live.”
― Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo




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Nate ~ Thank you! This was just a little experiment of mine; no planning whatsoever. I need to get out of that habit. Anyway, yeah, I'm told imagery is my strong point. BUT the third line of the sixth stanza is important! Maybe not the infinitesimally part (yeah, I should take that out), but the rest of it is.

Suzanne ~ I see where you're going. I really need to plan out my experiments. *goes off and chastises herself* I shall work on being specific! *nod nod*
"You can love someone so much...But you can never love people as much as you can miss them."



You have to be a bit of a liar to tell a story the right way.
— Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind