Suicidal Feelings

[TheFifthElement]

I tripped off the step from the train;
Curiosity brushed me aside,
skipped ahead like a small child.
Anticipation trailed slightly behind,
its old friend Distrust dangling
from its backpack. Ticketless,
they never made it through the barrier.
I passed them, contrite and tearful,
slipping away with the Transport Police.

Kindness was lost in the crowd
passing from person to person with
thoughtful gestures and generous words.
At the corner a bus turns a little tightly,
clipping Self-Respect on its way past.
I left it bruised and bleeding by the
roadside safe in the hands of the
gathering crowd; hurt, but not permanently.

Wonder wandered off near to the
art gallery, distracted by the promise
of art treasures on short-term exhibition.
Soon afterwards Creativity meandered
down a back alley captivated by the puddles,
the degradation of the city streets, and
the promise of opportunity. I missed it
like an afterthought, a half-memory.

I reach the door, the hardest part of
every working day. I leave Happiness
here, it knows it can’t come in.
This time, as the door closes,
I hardly hear it moan.
I press the button for the elevator.
Outside, the sound of beeping horns
breaks the morning gloom.

[blazeofglory]

I tripped off the step from the train;
Curiosity brushed me aside,
skipped ahead like a small child.
Anticipation trailed slightly behind,
its old friend Distrust dangling
from its backpack. Ticketless,
they never made it through the barrier.
I passed them, contrite and tearful,
slipping away with the Transport Police.

Kindness was lost in the crowd
passing from person to person with
thoughtful gestures and generous words.
At the corner a bus turns a little tightly,
clipping Self-Respect on its way past.
I left it bruised and bleeding by the
roadside safe in the hands of the
gathering crowd; hurt, but not permanently.

Wonder wandered off near to the
art gallery, distracted by the promise
of art treasures on short-term exhibition.
Soon afterwards Creativity meandered
down a back alley captivated by the puddles,
the degradation of the city streets, and
the promise of opportunity. I missed it
like an afterthought, a half-memory.

I reach the door, the hardest part of
every working day. I leave Happiness
here, it knows it can’t come in.
This time, as the door closes,
I hardly hear it moan.
I press the button for the elevator.
Outside, the sound of beeping horns
breaks the morning gloom.


Indeed this is a good analysis of how we live through, through different phases of the mood and the one you extressed in the poem is the one I bet almost everyone lives with.

[TheFifthElement]

Indeed this is a good analysis of how we live through, through different phases of the mood and the one you extressed in the poem is the one I bet almost everyone lives with.

Thanks blaze, I found this one quite fun to write, imagining emotions like little people (at the risk of offending those who don't like the anthropomophising of things!) going off and doing what they want to do.

[Pendragon]

Whew, Fifth. I begin to hear the echo from the edge in that poem! I like the way you give personalities to different feelings, and we can visualize how they are lost to you as you travel along your way. One of your best, I think! http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l108/AbsalomKane/Four/Boguet.gif

[TheFifthElement]

Thanks Pen :) Nice to see you around.