There’s a little man in my brain,
He and mine’s eye are one in the same
He likes to squeeze through my veins,
I pull him out by the chain of my spine.
His blood flows out of my nose,
I know it’s too late for me now.
His body is made of an otherworldly clay
There are no bones to snap as I crush him.
I will pay for this in another life surely
Or burn in the pits of Hell for eternity,
This is what the church has told me,
For murdering the little man controlling me.
There’s a gnawing ache in my head,
An empty space once owned by him
His fingers no longer can become my lips,
The voice returned to me feels foreign and strange.
I don’t know how to live my life
Without the rules demanded by the little man.
Can I find happiness in money and greed?
Should I run back to the church that has rejected me?
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140,078 Literary Works • 673,000 Reviews
I love everything about this poem! Every emotion that the narrator feels is conveyed clearly. I love the metaphor of losing faith in your religion and the uncertainty that comes from it. While the narrator seems to have lost their faith fully by the end of the poem, they still can’t help to quit they should return, making for a very powerful last line. This is a great poem!
Your verses are amazing, every metaphor is unambiguous and effective. You created a crescendo of images that seems to mirror the crescendo of your own emotions: it starts with your determination to get rid of "the little man" and it closes with a sense of anguish and despair.
As a religious person still questioning my believes, you left me in awe of how you beautifully captured the contrasting emotion that one often is forced to face when it comes to faith. Sometimes it feels like we are being controlled by rules that with don't fully understand or by the fear of enjoying things that should actually make us feel guilty. And yet, without the little man, life seems to lose its meaning.
You should really be proud of this composition, well done!
Thank you!