Ever since I could remember,
I have always felt this way.
Like I am trapped looking at life,
behind a thick sheet of glass.
I can see everyone else,
but can anyone see me?
I can hear everyone else,
but can anyone hear me?
I take a deep breath,
then push it out quickly.
Making this horrid sound,
a sharp, and burning shrill,
that rings through my ears.
Sometimes I can't help,
but to think of invisibility.
Is it real in this galaxy?
Is there a slight chance,
that maybe, just maybe,
I am cursed with it?
I look up through teary eyes,
and that's when I see it.
A little crack in the glass,
maybe two inches above me.
I am thrilled by the possibility,
that I could escape this cage.
I inspect the small crack,
study it's every aspect.
Then I take in another breath,
and let out another scream,
my eyes trained on it,
as it starts to get bigger.
My lungs start to burn,
still I take in breath after breath,
the screams grow louder,
as the crack grows larger.
I let out one last time,
releasing with all my might.
I then start tapping on the glass,
it's crack spredding like an infection,
blocking my outside view.
So I take a step back,
a hundred thoughts in my head,
and a dozen tears on my face.
I push hard against the glass,
and it shatters, setting me free,
free from this nightmare,
that has made me so alone.
I run into the fresh air,
as the rain starts to fall.
Everyone rushes past me,
and I let our shoulders brush,
sending chills down my spine.
People watch me dance,
they can see me!
People listen to my laugh,
they can hear me!
I am not invisible,
it does not exist,
not within this galaxy,
or within my life.
Because I am free.
The poem seems to drag on for a while before we get to being free. I feel like you could shorten it up by establishing to begin with that there is a way out of this cage that you're in, just start in the cage, and breaking the glass. Ignore the top part of the poem where you are discussing what the cage does. We can see clearly the result of not being in the cage and from that we can derive what it was like in the cage. This will speed up the poem, get it to the point it wants to make quicker, and keep the reader interested because we can also do the same thing with our own glass boxes to get rid of them. Plus, breaking out of the box takes a while itself. I almost feel like the screaming should have been enough to shatter the glass, but it is nice that we have that controversy that it is not and it takes more than just screaming, tears, breathlessness, and timid touches to break through something so thick.
As a poem, I like the style of the punctuation, that gives me a good feel of what is going on and it really grows through the screaming and the yelling through the thrill of being able to break free. Originally when I read the title, I thought the person started out free, and was questioning whether free was the best thing to be, but it actually was the other way around.
Okay, so Black here for a Review Day Review.
First off: Wow, this was interesting, I'm a sucker at finding themes in poems (I'm really not any good with poetry at all - and usually don't review it (though today's obviously an exception)) and I can feel it now. . . .
Problems? Okay, I'd love to be able to tell you that this is the best piece of poetry I've ever seen, that it has nothing to add, but if I did that would be a lie. . . .
Let me show you something very interesting.
This is what you wrote in this verse, now if we change it to this:
What difference is there? Read it to yourself . . . there isn't much difference, other than that it seems to flow much better . . . Poetry is really characterized by a centralized theme and the stanza's, verses, and lots of little lines . . . If you don't have one of these then it isn't poetry. . . (Well, you can go without the first one).
The reason that this reads just as well in a paragraph as in a stanza is because there is nothing making them different . . . People usually like to make their work rhyme as a solution to this, but I'm sure you could find another option. Just saying.
I am not invisible,
it does not exsist,
not within this galaxy,
or within my life.
Because I am free.
Okay . . . 'exsist' isn't a word . . . 'exist' is . . . and you don't say what 'it' is . . . It makes the whole thing feel wrong . . . And just as another example here, read this, am I the only one here who feels like eating socks because this piece reads so jerkily!
I hope not.
But anyway, nice work! It was definitely with a theme! Though, as mentioned, I am a sucker for themes and couldn't pin point this one . . .
Keep writing!
~Black~
That was a forced sock eating there, methinks!
XD
I think writing in paragraph format makes the whole thing look choppy with longer lines having shorter lines after it. It just looks bad in my opinion. I will definitely fix my spelling, thanks so much for catching that! I will see what I can do about my last stanza, the reason I wrote it like that was because it was referring to the second stanza. I am sorry to say that I do feel very offended by your review, and I would say that to prevent this, add more compliments. I understand that you are trying to help, but it makes it seem like there was nothing good inside the piece. Hope you take my advice! And thanks for your review, it was very much appreciated!