I walk through, those
empty rooms, with empty things,
empty people, with empty life,
empty hearts, with empty talks.
Nothing fills nothing.
I am shy. I cry.
My vain. My pain.
My depression reaches no one.
It echoes, ofcourse.
But in vain, it only finds me.
I am drained each day,
drop, by drop, of myself.
I am a victim, drained each day.
to become empty,
to fit in, those
empty rooms, with empty things.
empty people, with empty lifes.
empty hearts, with empty talks.
I am drained each day
to become an empty vessel.
I don't seek money.
I don't seek attention.
I don't seek love.
I want not to be empty.
I want not to be judged.
I want freedom to be myself.
When I walk through, these
empty rooms, with empty things,
empty people, with empty life,
empty hearts, with empty talks.
I see myself staring back,
through echoes of light.
Dull.Scared.Tired.
A stranger. A victim.
to whom, I write this poem.
Nothing fills Nothing.
It's just my view, but I feel that these abstract words allow readers to experience the poem from their own past.
SAK, poems like this, which wallow in self-pity, really need vivid imagery to pull them out of the slough of despair. Abstract words like love' and attention don't allow the reader to experience the speaker's paiin. Maybe check out some good contmeporary poetry, like Louise Gluck's. Your punctuation is also a problem (I walk through NO COMMA those / ermpty rooms) If you have time, check out my new website: jeffersoncarterverse.com Let me know how you like it. Thanks! Yrs, JC
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A refined poetic imagination, Sak. You may like to read my poem, Love And Lust. Thank you.