What cuts can bleed. Not just because it's sharp or thin, but because once torn, you can't just fix it. Some things can't be repaired, and it's not because it's broken, but because it stopped breathing long before it could try.
Some things can't see, they don't know what's being written on their skin. Whether it's notes or letters, those words are permanent. Some things are in pencil. But once erased, there's always a scuff that gets left on the page. Some things are etched in pen. But the ink will smear and you'll just crumple it up and start again.
Some things can't feel, they don't understand that sharp pain that comes with led or needle-point pens. They can't feel when they fall to the floor and are stepped on again and again because we never saw it there. We never bothered to pick it up. And then it's forever stained with footprints, no matter how many times you dust it off.
And some things can't taste or smell. I mean, how can a paper tell if it's burning? How can it tell if you spilt coffee or tea amongst it to change its appearance, or maybe it was just an accident. It can't determine whether you meant to or not, but you'll never say sorry because it's an inanimate object.
But she was like paper. And our words were pens, pencils, matches and shoes. We threw the knives, we lodged them deep, and when she was torn and broken, we kept going. Pushed her down, walked all over her. All she wanted was to be seen.
And he was like a parchment sheet. And our actions were blades. We changed him again and again to fit an image that he didn't make. We never said sorry, as humans we had no reason to. But the marks on his face speak of things that we all did, and he had to go through.
They were like paper. And, yes, paper can fold but that doesn't mean it has to. If you were paper, you wouldn't appreciate the things that we, as humans, would have done to you. Fold you to make you fit better, cut you to make you different. You wouldn't like it, but you do it to them, we do it to them, because they are like paper.
What cuts can bleed. And not because it's sharp or thin, but because once ripped it can't just be fixed. Some things can't be repaired and it's not because it's broken. It's because it has long since stopped trying to breathe when we set the fire that burned it.
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125,024 Literary Works • 672,762 Reviews
Ahhhh I love this one a lot. I don't read much spoken poetry but reading this made me very fond of it! The way you combined words to make amazing sentences made me very happy! I really resonated with this and to me it seemed a lot similar to how society destroys what it doesnt like until the thing is gone. And, this one I felt really captured that. The word choice is wonderful and makes a person really feel something. And, to me making the audience feel something is the goal! This one certainly hit the goal. My favorite part of this is comparing the people society hurts to inanimate objects. It really shows how some people treat others as though they're unable to feel pain or happiness.
Thank you so much for the review! I'm glad you liked it! <3
Hi. This poem means a lot and explains so much
I like it because I think the paper metaphor/simile you used paints clearly what turns good people into vilains. I don't know if you meant it that way though.
" But she was like paper. And our words were pens, pencils, matches and shoes. We threw the knives, we lodged them deep, and when she was torn and broken, we kept going. Pushed her down, walked all over her. All she wanted was to be seen.
And he was like a parchment sheet. And our actions were blades. We changed him again and again to fit an image that he didn't make. We never said sorry, as humans we had no reason to. But the marks on his face speak of things that we all did, and he had to go through."
In the above lines, you show how we humans do the worse to each other even when we know we wouldn't want to be treated so and I think that's exactly why I sometimes fear the crowd.
Thank you for your words. I'm glad you enjoyed it <3
Hey, Sawnsee here for a quick review of your awesome work! First thing that came to mind after reading this poem was that example that some people use as like a metaphor where they crumble a piece of paper and then uncrumple it and then tell the other person to say sorry to it, but it doesn't change anything. This sort of metaphor, like what you used is a very powerful way to show that humans are fragile. I like how you continue this strong metaphor and give an example of how men and women each can go through these tough things. If there was one thing to critique in your writing I would just say maybe you could further layer these themes with even more symbolism. Other than that this was a touching read and found myself reflecting on our society.
I'm glad you liked it! Thank you for the review!
I can work on the symbolism, this was my first time trying out spoken poetry, so I wasn't sure if it would end well or not. <3
OMG THIS IS AMAZING GOOD JOB TAO!!!!!
haha, thank you <3