Vagabond

The struggle for identity within myself

We are all made of our memories
But all of mine faded away
I grasp for them- up in the clouds
But I know they'll never stay

We exist within our dreams
But all of mine turned to nightmares
People jump over their fears
But only when I think, do I get scared

So what am I supposed to do
When my very existence itself
Is crumbling to pieces
Like moldy bread

How am I supposed to keep living
When the very air around me
Is the thing that is choking me
Making it hard to breath?

I'm a wanderer, a vagabond
Forced to roam the world, always searching
I try to fight my daily demons
But more are always lurking

I would take hers right from her
I would add them to my own
She doesn't know my sacrifice
And that's why I'll end up alone

So why do I insist on trying
To help one who'll never know?
Why would I spend my life dying
To soften her minor blow?

Because I love her.

Author's Note

This is my first poem I made since I started posting to writers cafe so I'm really interested to see thoughts on it. However, I made this one intentionally a little scattered as it represents the poem's search for identity as I search for it myself. I hope that was felt

Reviews

[V]

I hope you don't mind another review on one of your writings, just felt like letting you know that I think this is the best one I've read by you so far. Thoughtful and consisting of a lot of nice expressions, I also really like the title. Since I'm a little petulant when it comes to rhyming pieces, I have to admit that some lines, f.ex. "But only when I think, do I get scared" read a tad clumsy and somehow some stanzas read rhythmic, others don't, more like free verse but you might have done that on purpose. In my mind stanzas 3-5 read best. So a nice poem.

[William Liston]

I love the way that you structured your ideas in this poem. You start by talking about your own misery and then you talk about your sacrifices. I like it. This poem also flowed well because the line lengths were similar. And yes, I did feel the scattered feeling that you were going for; it worked very well in this poem. (If you want to read another poem with a scattered feel, I'd suggest reading Death Poet's "Losing Lucy. She's on my friends' list, so you can find her there). This poem wasn't very strong as far as imagery is concerned, but I must say, you used the abstract very well in this poem. In other words, not all poems need imagery to be good; sometimes the simplicity behind the meaning is enough. Good job on this.

-William Liston