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483

I lie here in the snow,

feeling cold and numb.

Trying way to hard,

to avoid the seeking sun.

and when I see the golden ball,

peek over the hill,

again I will trodd on,

to a place that's colder still.

Searching, always searching,

for the light that becons me,

I flee and scream and scatter

when light car'es the 'rizon seem.

Alone and cold,

I do not tremble,

I'm beyond that now.

I'm like the oaks and pines,

I will not bend or bow.

On and on I carry on,

into the snowbanks and steep inclines,

farther farther and farther still,

I continue even though I've fallen ill.

I lie here in the snow,

feeling cold and numb.

Far to cold to shed a tear,

or call out to someone.

And when I see distant things,

I tried to crawl away,

from the warmth and exctacy,

that the sun put on desplay.

I tried to dissapear,

I tried to close my eyes,

but oaks and pines dont bend,

they break,

and that left me compromized.

I lie here in the snow,

feeling cold and numb,

trying very hard,

to ignore the blaring sun.

the sun returned my health to me,

the light brought back my sight.

again I got back up to flee,

and I fled into the night.

(march 19-2011. well before i was redpilled i was a very edgy and depressed chick. if only i knew then what i know now)

I lie here in the snow, feeling cold and numb. Trying way to hard, to avoid the seeking sun. and when I see the golden ball, peek over the hill, again I will trodd on, to a place that's colder still. Searching, always searching, for the light that becons me, I flee and scream and scatter when light car'es the 'rizon seem. Alone and cold, I do not tremble, I'm beyond that now. I'm like the oaks and pines, I will not bend or bow. On and on I carry on, into the snowbanks and steep inclines, farther farther and farther still, I continue even though I've fallen ill. I lie here in the snow, feeling cold and numb. Far to cold to shed a tear, or call out to someone. And when I see distant things, I tried to crawl away, from the warmth and exctacy, that the sun put on desplay. I tried to dissapear, I tried to close my eyes, but oaks and pines dont bend, they break, and that left me compromized. I lie here in the snow, feeling cold and numb, trying very hard, to ignore the blaring sun. the sun returned my health to me, the light brought back my sight. again I got back up to flee, and I fled into the night. (march 19-2011. well before i was redpilled i was a very edgy and depressed chick. if only i knew then what i know now)

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[–] [deleted] • 2 pts

lol i am very intrigued by your interpretation but not sure that i should take it seriously based on how your comment ended, very amusing either way.

after you encouraged me to write some poetry for this forum i decided to look at some of my old work to see if it was worth sharing. most of it was trash, but this one caught my eye, even though its got alot of incorrect spelling and weird play on words.

im not exactly sure what was going through my head when i was in highschool, but my new interpretation goes something like: the sun is the truth, it is happiness, gender roles; but the person in the story doesnt want to submit to the light even though it would save her life. she wants to be something she is not but has been told to be, a strong oak tree, (i realize now it may have been a metaphor for feminism) and she thinks that the only way to accomplish this is to run away from the truth, but pursuing that is only making her more sick and cold, it is hurting her because she is denying her nature. the snow represents depression. the sun would alleviate her mental suffering, but her whole world and identity revolves around suffering and being depressed. the sun threatened her very way of life. so rather than embracing the sun she makes it worse by running to her problems for comfort. the darkness and night representing willful ignorance.

really this poem is a great example of how feminism is hurting woman

[–] • 1 pt
[–] [deleted] • 1 pt

what was the point of that? seems a bit pointlessly vindictive

[–] • 1 pt

Somebody else once told me to read my high school poetry.

[–] • 1 pt

Don't worry about it. I admire the fact you had the confidence to share your poem with us. I have loads I wrote decades ago and no way would I post them online, so good for you. You're braver than me.