In the End

Indecisive and misunderstood
So confusing the statements
And ideas that are allowed to
Be expelled from your unsettled mind
Once my sweet now bitter ever-lasting
Yet lasting as if all true
And i am conflicted when pondering
All events that led to this disdain
Upon my unbearing broken spirit
Unbearing yet unwilling to release
These broken ties that held such content
Lack of faith washes over me
While i still cling to some desire
That once elated me
Bewilderment seizes me
As i am dazed by a clearness
That is only absolute
Though what entails in this truth
Is only feisable in confusion
And so i seize my lack of understanding
As if this lifeline was drifting toward
The end of the all-knowing
And as the all-knowing has
I shall end

Hey ladyworkz!

This poem is as confusing as whatever you are talking about! I mean, I know that you are talking about some sort of conflict, but I can't really see what the conflict is. I think you are talking about the struggles of life and pitting yourself against God, or something similar, but your language is rather ambiguous, at best. See if you can give concrete images which firm what you are trying to say!

Hello,
I feel very sensitive about critiquing this poem, because while I was reading it I searched for its message, its heart, its core, I found clips and pieces from one life, but more importantly is the fact that I couldn't identify one voice. I found many, several different voices with their VAPID opinions clamoring and wrestling to be heard, to be the dominant perspective. I see raw hot-wounded youth, the strength is there to carry on ... but the wound is so great it devours one's life: energy, beauty, joy, belief

Where is your life, love?

Why is all that anger internalized, scattered, and misdirected? Can it find its true course? The story is so incomplete, yet you muse over the pages and pages of blank pages as an eternity of peaceful emptiness, but they are your freedom!

"Shut the kcuf up you overly positive freak!" Or whatever the aggressive/defensive part of you might say. {[And by the way, I am not assuming you would say any suck...such* thing, but life only offers few opportunities to get to enjoy saying that phrase. And you're welcome... ;XD Mwa-ha }]

In my intrepid interpretation of the 'idea' of your poem, it's clear the 'character' believed in someone or something that failed/betrayed/abandoned/(or died) them bitterly and very possibly traumatically, maybe so much that the character loved that someone or something so much that they haven't been able to dramatically change the amount of attention given to this thing or person. Or maybe I just see that, because in the very basic and awkwardly vague concept - I saw someone you wouldn't recognize as me now, but who once had fully been all tat I am. I saw me in the darkest and lonliest and devestated time of my life...

And it made me overlook that the poem seemed to change halfway through and that I did not enjoy reading it aloud, even though I tried more than once. But I also don't know if it was written like that on purpose, and if so - to me your poem captures the image in my mind of a youth, in the clutches of their first true crisis - the first time of "FIGHT or FLIGHT"

And I don't believe in idiocy. I am all about enjoying life, and not kcufing up other people's life. I think that with what I understand in this very 'journal like', 'napkin style' 'release of pain onto paper' sort of poetry. But, I really do believe you should fight the Will to give up, if this is your story. If not, then it's a beautiful picture. I don't really adore its style or how it sounds, but it does describe and capture an emotional experience very well.

And blah blah blah. Sincerely, keep writing.

At your service,
Mandorelute
Let me just say this:
I am writing this quite exhausted,
so if anything offends, I am sorry;and please forgive.

The people above think this poem fluctuates to much and cannot identify a voice, but I disagree. I can clearly see a voice here, and I certainly understand the message. Perhaps it is my writing style, but I like this poem a lot more than some of my own work. The only thing that seems a problem to me is the first word "undecisive" should be indecisive.