Because We're More Than We Are

August 15, 2013

I am a number.

But the jounce in my chest,

The pain I've suppressed,

Tells me of my hunger.

I am but a gear.

A piece that can't matter,

A dreary captor,

Of a "life" that's austere.

I am just a price,

But that price is not me,

And how can it be

That these words won't suffice?

The tingle of Life,

That breathtaking torrent!

Makes me important;

Makes me able to thrive.

So the pen is my friend,

I'm released from my cage,

As my words never age

So my Life never dies.

These letters insist:

Here is me, take or leave.

And let me recieve

All the pain I have missed--

No longer a number!

No longer just a gear.

Emotions become sheer,

I'm fully unencumbered.

Something wrong with this poem?

Replies are closed for this poem.

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.