I took a look at my old poetry and what I had read sounded like a completely different me. I am writing this as a response to what I read, to show how I got from who I was, to how I am now, in a symbolic way.
It is only a rough draft but please let me know your opinions and criticisms.
The cell is dirty
No cot, no blanket, no floor
Time passed by with the blending of shadows on the concrete wall
Days blended together to form a panorama of different shades and hues of grey.
All days were the same,
until this ball of energy invaded the room
creating a path of destruction in its wake.
It had a bright, sparkling, pink shine that radiated hope and disintegrated desperation
It moved around the room lively, as if playing a game
swerving left, steering right
bouncing and eluding confrontation.
It moved around in a haste
like a criminal in a high speed chase
every move dictating whether they will escape or get caught.
Hands leaped out from other cells in the room
arms outstretched past the bars
trying to catch The Light that represented the elixir of life.
It looked like it was searching,
racing up and down this prison
hunting its pray
I knew deep down that it was looking for me.
Because when I looked at it, I felt at home
It was warm baths, laughter, and acceptance
It was courage
It was optimism.
It was hope.
The Light sputtered and stopped when It reached my cell
It was as if seeing me ignited a switch
as it flew like a linebacker toward me
ramming itself full force into my body
I tried to turn away, to hide back into the darkness
But my hands shot up to grip my chest
as The Light spread throughout my body
settling into my chest like a lump of burning embers
setting ablaze a fire that lived inside of me long ago.
My body heaved against the foreign intruder
trying to repel it
but eventually retreating
and succumbing to the power of this enigmatic Light
With no resistance
It reshaped into a smaller version of myself
and finally settled inside of my body
as if dropping into bed after a long day at work.
The Light was my soul
lost and forgotten long ago
but just because I forgot about It,
does not mean that It, forgot about me.
It was fighting,
fighting this entire time
to get back home
so It could claim Its other half and finally be complete again.
The black in my eyes grew brighter
until the world was magnified in color
and I could see once more.
The bars of my cage slowly eroding away
inch by inch
until I was standing free
able to walk again.
The realization hit
that the only thing keeping me locked away
holding me back,
was me.
I had the power to free myself all along
I just lost who I was along the way
but in the end I found myself in the rubble of my remains.
There is hope
you just have to open your eyes long enough to see it.
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Hello, gottahaveFaith,
I thought this was a very interesting and different take on depression and finding hope again.
That being said, there are a few suggestions I'd like to present that would make this better.
I liked the narrative aspect of it, but I felt that more concrete images would be beneficial. I've never seen a pink ball of light, but I have seen, say, a dog, or a fox, or even an inanimate object, like a tree. I can see the same story being told by a destitute vagabond who comes across a beautiful tree. I feel like the soul needs to have a more physical form than what is has here. Symbolically, anyway. I feel like it would be more effective if I could really picture in my mind's eye something that I've seen before as something else.
Depression isn't really something that you can just snap out of. I think that you should put something in there about working towards the light, or whatever symbolizes hope in your next draft, instead of it trying to get back into you. Depression is serious, and it takes a lot of work to fight it back. Try to convey some kind of realistic struggle here.
Your line breaks are odd in places. Try to standardize the length of the line and I think your poem will feel better, even without you trying too hard to find the right place to break the line.
You don't seem to be doing it here, but remember to break the line on a strong word such as a noun, not a weak conjunction.
Altogether, nice job on conveying your feelings. I hope that this proves useful to you! Happy YWSing!
Thank you very much. Your advice was helpful and will take it into account when revising!
When i see it the first thing that bothers me is the irregularity in the width of the lines so that's the first thing I'll tell you to look at. Next, when you describe it in the second para you call it a shiny object then you elaborate it again in the next one, so UK's m I'd suggest you to do it at one place and more concisely because in a poem every extra word has the potential to spoil it for you. The same thing can be seen with the other things you are describing, so you should work at it as that corrected it will be a better read according to me.
Then the way you change the stanzas bothers me. It looks like you are changing it just as one sentence finishes but that gives hitches to the reader and I don't see it as a good thing. So I'd like to suggest you to cluster the sentences in uniform stanzas with appropriate line breaks. It will make your poem look more readable and pretty.
Then the way you are writing looks like you are telling me something, scene by scene but I am not able to see it playing out in the front of my eyes and that is one bit turn off. The hope, the optimism is written there but I am not able to see the zeal in the soul of the narrator, as if she's not interested in the poem, there is a detachment which is not a good thing if you ask me.
The whole plot is a bit confusing and the imagery is bit blurry but apart from the problems I told you I see some good lines and some pretty ideas which can be formed into a better piece. But as you said it was a draft so I hope that means you'll rewrite it and when you do I'll look forward to reading it. All the best.
I really liked this a lot. I loved the way you made the poem different. Usually when people write poems they're all the same style over and over again with different words, but yours was different; it told a story. You had description, setting, problem and solution as you would in a story but it was shaped as a poem which I found extremely interesting.
I really saw no problem with this at all. The grammar was good. Complete sentences that made sense. You had pretty much everything you could have. Now I think the only editing you can do is little things like word choice and things, it all depends on if you like it or not, but I think it great so.
Over all great job. I might have missed something's because I don't usually review poetry but I'm not completely incompetent so, but great job and I'm glad you got better and was able to look back on this and see how you where and how far you have come. It always cool to see that stuff. Keep up the good work.