- - - - - - -
Imagery, huh?
When it comes to stories, I’m not good at description.
And yet, when it comes to poems, I’m not good at imagery!
Darn it. Yes. Darn it, I say.
But here, I try…again.
There are a lot of ways failure can feel.
It can feel like a mirror shattering in front of you
Crashing on you, piercing your eyes, making you blind
You start to crawl on the ground,
And the shards of glass keep on hurting your hands.
How can you stand up feeling like this?
Blood drips from your fingertips as you try.
And when you look up,
The ceiling feels like it’s gonna fall over you
Smashing your face, breaking your skull, making you stunned
Then, you wake up
And feel your body totally destroyed, ruined,
Like there is no longer a healthy bone inside
You look around you
And see a total wreck
You smell rust and feel like fainting again
But you have to admit
That when you look up again
You see a clear blue sky,
Filled with clouds that look like cotton
You feel the breeze gently touch your face
It feels like heaven, doesn’t it?
You see,
All of this pain is just an illusion,
An illusion that you created yourself,
Because you are a self-pitying pessimist
Here, let me slap you.
There.
Now it comes to realization
That I was only talking to myself,
Showing me that I am also an optimist
Let’s now end all of this exaggeration.
Go click the ‘Submit’ button
And simply try again.
