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16+ Mature Content

I Imagine That

by SpencerReidIsMyLife


Warning: This work has been rated 16+ for mature content.

*This is a poem that I'm debating to enter into my CRW 205 class for my portfolio. Any critiques are 
appreciated*.

Where they will bury me 
Will be for the likes of a Queen.
Flowers will line my grave, 
And onlookers will believe
The story of the troubled 
girl, who didn’t know her left
From her right, the poor girl
With a chaotic mind.

Eventually they’ll all leave, until
All that’s left are the groundskeepers 
And their shovels, 
Piling their dirt atop of me
Like it is their second
Nature—I can feel each gravel plummet,
Hitting my bones, causing me to rattle 
Beneath my grave of flowers, scents
Of decay from those beside me 
Surrounding me within that bubble
Of despair I know all too well
—Though nobody seems to notice.

I am nothing but a rickety, 
Haunted house
That nobody wants to visit,
But when they do 
It only feels like the neighbourhood
Kids daring the others to ring
The doorbell.

My Brain is at war
And I’m not really sure who’s winning,
And I’m sure I’ll be notified 
Once it’s convenient,
But for now 
they’ll say that

Mel was such a beauty,
As if to say that beauty is not just
A societal concept, generalised 
With Snapchat selfies and Instagram posts,
And their Facebook walls and Twitter feeds—
They never mattered anyway.

I am an anomaly, 
That scarred myself
With swords
To see if the pain 
Of life was worth it,
Just to die in a hole
In the ground 8 decades
From now.

Maybe it was not the swords
That really scarred me,
But rather my own mind.
Nobody really knows 
Its capabilities (that is, until
It goes too far), insanity
Determined by the society
That will bury us all, 10 feet
Deep, 

And The truth is, I will
Be buried alive
In a grave that is cool, 
Dark, and damp. 
The newly placed dirt,
Seeping through 
The sides of my jet-
black coffin, just like 
The other night
When I couldn’t get 
Everything out of my head.
Maybe, this way, it’s for the best. 

Nevertheless, I will be pounding at the coffin’s 
Walls, hoping, screaming—begging for you to listen, 
But everyone has earplugs in
To block us out,
So I die gradually, 
Slowly, as my pleas are drowned
Out by the groundskeepers
That keep piling that dirt atop my
Grave. I reconcile, laying motionless, 
Like a resigned man on Death Row, 
Waiting for his heart to finally
Stop.



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32 Reviews


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Sun Apr 26, 2020 4:10 pm
EthanHoover wrote a review...



Hey there, Ethan here for another review,

A well written poem here, one I can relate to all too well. I loved the symbolism of the grave, the way you kept repeating it to mean slightly different things was interesting, particularly so at the end, where you were talking about how living is like being buried alive. An incredibly well written piece.

I don't have anything to really give constructive criticism on, but you were asking on our thoughts about putting it into your creative writing portfolio? I'd say defiantly yes.

Like I said, wonderful poem, and keep up the good work!




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Sun Apr 26, 2020 2:55 pm
Tanishka says...



This is so true. What an amazing poem




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Thu Apr 09, 2020 5:18 pm
GigiNicole17 wrote a review...



Hey, it's Gigi here with a review just for Y. O. U. !!!!!!

I have one word for this poem.
WOAH.........

Let me start off by saying i LOVED the format of the poem. You did amazing on that it was perfect.

"My Brain is at war
And I’m not really sure who’s winning,
And I’m sure I’ll be notified
Once it’s convenient,
But for now
they’ll say that"

Wow........

Your poem was so deep! It described what I used to feel like when I was depressed, so I have an emotional connection.

Mel was such a beauty,
As if to say that beauty is not just
A societal concept, generalised
With Snapchat selfies and Instagram posts,
And their Facebook walls and Twitter feeds—
They never mattered anyway.

This part was GREAT!!!! I loved that you captured the essence of what social media does to people! You did an amazing job!!!

Keep Shining, Keep writing!

With love
~Gigi! :)




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Wed Apr 08, 2020 8:11 pm
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Stellabeam wrote a review...



vHello!!

I just read your poem here! I love the imagery and companions you use in it

My favorite verse is this part here:

I am nothing but a rickety,
Haunted house
That nobody wants to visit,
But when they do
It only feels like the neighbourhood
Kids daring the others to ring
The doorbell.

I love the comparison to yourself to a empty haunted house :) It gives me a good visual of what you're trying to share.

Mel was such a beauty,
As if to say that beauty is not just
A societal concept, generalised
With Snapchat selfies and Instagram posts,
And their Facebook walls and Twitter feeds—
They never mattered anyway.


For me this part is a little confusing, I see that you're trying to comment on society's beauty standards but not sure what exactly. If you could find a way to reword it like the haunted house line I think it would flow a lot better. Good luck!




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Wed Apr 08, 2020 8:10 pm
Stellabeam says...



.




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24 Reviews


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Wed Apr 08, 2020 8:10 pm
Stellabeam says...



.




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Tue Apr 07, 2020 11:31 am
Cosmopoeticaaa says...



Amazing





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