Play-act

Greatly inspired by a poem called 'Autopsicografia' by portuguese poet Fernando Pessoa. Slight changes, may not have the same meaning as the original, so it`s open for interpretation.

The poet is feigned
He fakes for his own sake
At night, he even fakes the pain
That constantly keeps him awake

Those who read what they write,
In the written form of pain, they feel delight

But not both, like the author felt
Only instead, the very one they can`t feel
That causes him fright

And so on the railroads
It spins, entertains reason,
The wind-up train won`t break apart
Unless he needs another heart...

Author's Note

I`d like to hear some constructive criticism.

Reviews

[Ryan Henderson]

This poem was a little hard to logically interpret, but that's okay, I like writers who make me think :) This poem had a certain haunting voice of pain and sorrow behind it, merely a ghost behind the mirror, if you get my drift. Again, a very good poem, I do not have any critique for you, sadly. Keep writing :)

[Mabel]

Thank you so much for reviewing. I enjoy writing complex pieces, but at times, I also am very direct with my wording, so some poems might be easier to interpret than others, haha. I really like the way you interpret it, it does have na eerie feeling to it. I won`t say what the original meaning is, that would just ruin all the fun now wouldn`t it?
And thank you for your kind words!

[Ryan Henderson]

Hey, no problem!