Bring Me to Life~ a Poem

My form is made of porcelain;
My hands are marble bars.
My eyes are beads of liquid glass;
My feelings come in jars.

A trodden path is at my feet;
It stretches smooth and straight
Where other statues, stone like me,
Have passed the same cold gate.

There must be something different;
Some wilder path untrod.
I yearn for distant stars untouched
Save by the hand of God.

Thorns rake the earth outside of the path,
For the wild unknown nurtures strife.
But following others, I’m losing myself,
So   b  r  e  a  k   me,

and bring me

to life.


15 thoughts on “Bring Me to Life~ a Poem

  1. This is really cool. My first read made me think: “Oh cool.” My second: “Wow this has a lot of meaning.” Third: “I should probably stop reading, otherwise I’ll just memorize it.”

    Seriously, great work. Not only are your regular posts wonderful, but your poetry is too. You’d just better not do artwork posts, though, otherwise you’ll be ruling over all realms of the blogosphere.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Lol! Unfortunately I can’t hold a candle to the other artists out there. XD
      And I’m afraid I really need some practice ‘ruling the blogosphere’ because this post wasn’t even supposed to go up today, but I must have clicked ‘Tuesday’ instead of ‘Thursday’ when I was scheduling it… *facepalm*

      Anyway, thank you. 😉 I’m glad you enjoyed it.


  2. Oooooh, this is so beautiful! *flails* I love how true it is in context with our world and lifestyle today and how we’re all perfectly made into identical statues by society and we’re walking on a pretty easy path. In fact, life tends to be fairly smooth until you let God take control. Another beautiful reminder of only appreciating light after the darkness!

    When you write poetry, does it all just come to you, or do you sit down and have to work out the rhythm, thyme, ect?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. That is /exactly/ what I wrote it to say. ;D

      Honestly, it depends. Sometimes it comes to me with a rhythm and a pattern and I only have to do minor tweaking. Sometimes I get an idea without a rhythm, and then I have to sit down, brainstorm what structure I want the poem to have to give it maximum symbolic impact, and play around until I find a rhyme scheme or at least a rhythm that I like.
      Honestly though, most of my poetry is spontaneous. A collection of words clicks, finds an idea in my (vast and ever-growing) mental catalogue, and takes off running. 😛 It can be quite an adventure sometimes.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. *flails anything that can be flailed and runs around sobbing*
    I don’t even know what to say…
    You have written most of my favorite pieces of work, and it keeps growing every time I come on your blog. The pile, I mean. Of most favorite pieces of work.


    1. *blushes furiously* WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO SAY TO THAT??
      *recovers dignity somewhat* This makes us happy. I love you too. ❤ I'm happy to make you happy. 😉


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