Will I?

A Poem by Chaos

Prose poem for a contest

BOX
REMAINS
PROJECT
OUTSIDE
FOREVER
MORE
VASE
ACT
ILLLUSION
BREATHING

My life often remains locked in this brown and charred box of my own making that I keep under my bed. I fight to get out of these constraints and find the simplistic normalcy that I know is out there somewhere, but I can’t. I can’t, because I’m trapped by my own crippling distorted illusions of what I think happiness means. Power and strength are things that leave me breathing and wanting more as I stumble and shake behind realities door. I wonder if the yellow roses in the vase that sits upon my shelf is laughing at me because they know in their confinement; they have more autonomy than I will ever have. I need freedom, but where is it hidden? Will I ever know that sweet nectar of freedom? Will my wings fly and touch the grey blue clouds that cover the earth with soft cotton? I seem to be outside of myself most of the time. I’m a foreigner looking into myself. I see this stranger acting out a part and I keep acting and trying to reach others unrealistic expectations of me. How long should I act this part? How long should I pretend to project something that I don’t even understand; forever? Am I doomed to never be satisfied with me? Will I?

© 2008 Chaos

Author's Note

I'm still not sure about prose, but I wanted to write something from the heart. I had to use these ten words and this is what my heart said. Sad isn't ?

My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register

Reviews

1809 Black Plague Decem..

wow, I like this one equally as much as the others,
the poem itself shows a lot of imagery, the prose
just brings it to another level,
i like how the flower in the vase is maybe laughing, its constraint, yet with freedom
everything is solid, tangible, but then comes the room, the constraint, and question,
the question is will you step out of the box? great prose, mishy x :S