Suitcase

3 Comments

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  • Cooped Up Feelings

    Poem Commentary

    LaLaLaLa, Please comment :D

    Suitcase
    I see people in the hallway,
    Everyday,
    Some of then to my dismay,
    Making Out and Hugging,
    Till the end of passing time,
    And I can't help but to wonder,
    What it would be like to be that close to someone,
    I'll never know,
    Because I don't and won't allow myself to get that close to someone,
    I push everyone and every feeling away,
    Stuffed them into a suitcase,
    That is buried deep down in my soul,
    I lost the key to the suitcase a while ago,
    Or rather someone has stolen it,
    I'd like it back sometime soon you know,
    It would be nice to have the vital feelings back,
    To replace the ones I lack.

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    Milkman commented on Suitcase

    09-19-2009

    I know just what you are feeling, I wish I could tell you that it will pass. In reality that first true love of you life, you never really recover from it. In my experience I was head over heals in love in college some thirty years ago...our relationship ended not from any betrayal or loss of affection it ended due to a tragic loss of a friend who fiancee was killed in a fluke accident. As a result my GF saw life a fleeting and wanted no entanglements...I was devastaed and have never recovered to truley trust my heart again.. this effected my marriage which only lasted 8 years...and has had its impact on my other relationships throughout life.....the only thing I can tell you is to accentuate all the positives you can and dont let it destroy you....as you can tell your poem has touched a cord with me and it is always bitter-sweet to remember....but nicely written
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    Helios commented on Suitcase

    08-06-2009

    Another work of secret feelings that become a work of art. Thank-you for this piece.
    Reply to Comment

    When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.

    John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) Thirty-fifth President of the USA

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