I Feel Pale

by Everlasting   May 26, 2014


It's my heart. It beats thus I am alive.
But I must confess:
I am as dead as the corpses in the cemetery.
My thoughts linger in the limbo
And my soul is eaten by maggots everyday.
I must be insane,
The world isn't a burial ground where We-
are given a funeral the day of our birth.
I was alive. I am alive. I opened my eyes.
Yet I feel blind. Trapped. Constricted.
in a coffin of years beyond my age,
instead than in a crib where a baby sleeps.

I don't know but everyone cries.
They wear black baggages under their eyes.
I guess I just feel Pale. Pale because
the world its slowly losing its bright colors.

Written by: L.L.

2014

2


Did You Like This Poem?

Latest Comments

  • 10 years ago

    by Poet on the Piano

    Judging comment:

    This poem captured my heart for many reasons. One, the words are simple yet woven thoughtfully to give the reader a new perspective, as I have only known "pale" as a complexion or something a person looks, usually in the face. But to feel "pale"? That puts awe in my mind... and it makes me wonder how deeply we can feel, that there are emotions we are not aware of. Each line is almost professed in this tone that convinces me this is reality, this is what we can't always control. We can feel our heart beating yet that doesn't guarantee we are alive in spirit, in mind. Another point comes to my mind that brings up a conflict. When people say, only we can choose what path we travel on and our own happiness, it is not always as easy as waking up one day and prompting change. We know we are alive and can make the most of each day, but I feel it is a process. Your mentions of being constricted in a coffin are vivid and contrast well with the crib where a baby sleeps... as it is morose yet portrays this innocence, that we should have comfort yet we have been led to this point of being trapped. I like how you worded "black baggages under their eyes" as the common phrase is we have bags under our eyes, yet that means we are carrying baggage, emotional often. The last line ties in the poem well, especially with your uncertainty of how you can go and interact with the world. (7)

  • 10 years ago

    by Meena Krish

    So many images were coming to my mind as I read this; but the one that sticks out is how the world is reducing itself to ruins and not going to leave a trace for the future....sad.

More Poems By Everlasting