Final Poem

Where I’m Going

Small fragments of memories remain, scattered, loosely connected.

I can only just feel its existence, its presences,

I sometimes feel around me, feeling for that love which people held in their hands like light

But no… I feel blind to everything; and only feel suffocation in this ‘new’ era.

The same wind that I remember, slaps my cheeks,

Blows my tangled hair through my icicle like face.

The warmth I felt moments ago has long lingered away,

Away, with that spark, that shine, that shattered piece of hope.

I guess this is the ‘punishment’.

I remember that I came from the sky, the sea, the stars,

I know I’m from the memories of the past and maybe the future.

I stand, barely standing, on this dark, poor earth, and smile-

Smile, I do, as fumes of black clouds roll into the sky from heated rusty metal tubes.

A salty taste rests upon my lips, slowly dripping onto the hard cold rice, which has lasted for days.

This glass I see through is no longer clear,

It is masked, covered, and misty.

The only light they can see is the so called ‘Era of Human Creation”,

Though to me it means “Era Manmade Trash, the way to destroy this World faster”

What right do we have?

Where the people used to walk is now covered in slime, in ashes.

I don’t even know where I am, in this world of ours, (this is yet another mistake we make. How could the world be ours?)

We have created a disaster, and one that no one would be able to rewind, ever.

Old traditions never remained – not long after ‘that’ world ended,

The times when families still spend time together, face to face,

When the blessed festivals were still celebrated,

Where people still had some love for others, for themselves, for us. 

Memories were lost, and they still are,

Humans just don’t feel complete anymore, like a music box without the music.

I have seen the shooting stars that showered down upon the smiling faces,

The children laughing while receiving presents,

The dinner that families shared in a snowy evening, and the joy they have felt.

It felt… like mine, long ago. 

The old melodies, the new static waves contrasts like the day and the night,

Like the Sun and the lost planet - Pluto.

I have many regrets…

Often I wonder - why was I born? What purpose do I have in this world?

Why did I never stand up with some guts against what I did not believe?

Why?

I feel like that wind, like that untold future,

I do not know the reason, for all I know is that life will carry on,

And that time never stops for anyone…

Anyone.

☬  -  ☬  -  ☬  -  ☬  -  ☬  

Hi guys, this is my final poem from the poem study: Where I'm From, by George Ella Lyons. We all had to write a poem, expressing our feelings when we read the poem. And through mine, you'll probably see a rather interesting understanding of the poem - Where I'm From. 

But I hope that you, by any means, will enjoy and like the poem I have written. Thank you very much!

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