I sing of pain,
it takes me away
to tears and to melancholy,
it's heavy when you can't stop gravity.
I sing of happiness too,
of the spark in our eyes
on successful saturday nights
I sing of my friends,
of how they're making amends
of life's usual flaws.
I also sing of coming home alone,
of being on my own
I sing of the words I write,
of the voices I fight
and of those I confide.
I sing of life itself
and every other of these days,
which come at me
and slowly set who I am in stone.
I sing of solitude
and thoughts and memory
I sing of company too,
the good and bad -
I even sing of my enemy.
sometimes I sing of you
and the smile that you gave me,
when it was still october
and winter hadn't caved in yet -
but more than that I sing of myself,
of the books on my shelves
and of how I couldn't be anyone else.
I sing of losses and wins,
of how now is only where it begins,
of silver and gold,
for that this will never get old.
I sing of white lighters and blue flames
I walk, I just walk
and they light the ways...
~
~
this poem is an ode to how every experience - good and bad - forms us into who we are;
very simple, yet somehow huge to think about if you really do...
I kinda had this poem in store for like a year and I really don't know why I never put it up here, but this one's really special to me, so I really hope you enjoyed it :) and I'd be so glad if you left a comment <3
annotation:
this poem is inspired by my favourite poet Walt Whitman and his poem "Song of Myself"
I first heard of his poetry collection "Leaves of Grass" when I was like 14 and 7 years later, to this day, I still adore it.
I always thought it was crazy how something written in 1855 could be so liberal and so ahead of its time... in fact maybe even more than we are now.
this book has been an overall big inspiration for me throughout and has definitely been one of the most influential to my love for poetry.
xo, Sð¹â¤ï¸