Poetry was her escape.
Her refuge from a world of stress and bustle,
Expressing thoughts and ideas took her to the land of dreams.
Real, fantasy, truth, lies,
All thoughts are valid to the poet.
The shape of the words, the strength of the idea
Mean more than the content.
Write about herself? Write about her friends?
Write about people who only exist in her imagination?
Until someone read her work.
And got it wrong.
Word on the page are not facts in life.
Life is her art,
But isn't her life.
The effect this had killed the art.
Drove those sensitive feelings back under the surface.
And the world is worse off for it.
I take the opposite view to Amanda. Your work is very good, and why put it on the site if not to appeal to this. It is really not what the work was intended to mean, but how it is understood. Yes, it can certainly be infuriating when one person tottaly misses the point, but at least it made them think enough about your work to miss the point in the first place.
All's well that ends well, Victoria. Poetry isn't written to please anybody but the author. It's only an added perk if someone else appreciates it as well.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This poem was very expressing, so real I loved it. Great Job! ! !