No World is Mine

by dante93

Published October 22, 2010

In Poetry

It has been a while since I have been on here because I have been working on getting my novel published, but this is a poem I wrote recently about some ridiculous things that have happened in my school.

What world do I live in now?
Friends are enemies
The ones I love have left.

Everything that I once knew has disappeared,
Consumed by the greed others have around me.

Taken by souls who have no courage
only a sickly cowardice that has grasped
my core.

Where I live
What I am
What I know is lost
trapped in another realm
a better place
that I cannot escape to.

I have been betrayed
and thrown aside

Burned and beaten

Buried alive by shades
I thought to be my kin.

Now what am I?
What do I have left?

What I loved most
stabbed me
And left me to bleed
out on the floor.

What my passion was
left me to die.

Now I wander alone,
lost in this world,
Angry
Enraged
Confused

Asking simply
Why?

Comments & reviews · 3
ivanmarrero0211 wrote a review Review · Oct 23, 2010

This is a strategically well-detailed poem. I like how you appeal to the emotions of an empathetic reader. The ending was G-R-E-A-T. A question always leaves an inquiry after you are done reading. Why do we find ourselves lost in this world sometimes? Maybe because we are deficient of a world fully ours. Very good elaborated indeed. Congratulations.

User avatar
SoggyPoptart
Review
SoggyPoptart wrote a review Review · Oct 22, 2010

dante93 wrote:What I loved most
stabbed me
And left me to bleed
out on the floor.

What my passion was
left me to die.

Now I wander alone,
lost in this world,
Angry
Enraged
Confused

Asking simply
Why?



This is my favorite part of your poem, why? I believe that is has emotion to it, detail. I think the way you ended your poem was a great way. Simple, yet questioning. Lost in this world? Well aren't we all?

If you have any questions or comments feel free to PM me

-Soggy



For in everything it is no easy task to find the middle ... anyone can get angry—that is easy—or give or spend money; but to do this to the right person, to the right extent, at the right time, with the right motive, and in the right way, that is not for everyone, nor is it easy; wherefore goodness is both rare and laudable and noble.
— Aristotle