Lyndsey Gillett

Sensitive - Poem by Lyndsey Gillett

Peoples opinions scald me like the sun,
Must try not to hide or run,
The sensitivity is somewhat heightened,
In other eyes my life in brightened,
I write from pain,
I am sorry to say,
No good songs came from joy for me yet,

Slowly I release my tears from their reservoir,
Hold me, hold me, even when I hate you,
Endure me, endure me, through my darkest times,
Which lately, lately seems to be every night,
My words slouch just as my posture,
My eyes look to the floor,
And when I've no more inspiration,
I will probably crave more,

My experience can be written but not truly understood,
Until last night I realised it could,
And what are the chances out of this huge world,
That the friend I would meet,
Could respond to me and greet,
The exact same emotions as him,
My brother with the same situation,
Was beyond reach of my imagination,

That is one good side to humanity,
We enjoy helping others from our insanity,
But dependable we are not,
That being said try not to lose heart,
Which shouldn't be hard,

Just to take everything of this world a lot more shallowly,
And it helps me deal with my insatiable desire,
To have someone rescue me.

Topic(s) of this poem: art, creativity, emotion, god, pain, sensitivity

Form: ABC

Poet's Notes about The Poem

A coincidental meeting between two people in an extremely particular situation, which aids the moving forward process after trauma.

Comments about Sensitive by Lyndsey Gillett

  • Kumarmani Mahakul (11/2/2015 3:34:00 PM)

    In opinion people call you sun is wonderful in expression as thought is well painted in colors of words. Nice sharing....10 (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Monday, November 2, 2015

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