Saturday, January 16, 2010

Anna sat inside her locked room
With no windows, a single door
The air was heavy and warm
But she had no care for comfort

Anna sat upon her bed
And stared at her speckled ceiling
She wanted to understand why she lived
Inside the small sealed box

Anna sat, Anna stared

Anna died, with her eyes still
Fixed on the ceiling
No one will find their meaning for life
If they do not live at all
Author Note: Being frustrated with life is something we all experience but most of us complain without action. I wrote this poem to remind myself that as much as we look for the answers, we often do not realize that it takes action to make change.

1 comment:

  1. Congratulations for your attachement to poetry!
    I invite you to contribute to independent and multicultural CHMagazine with your literary creation, as constant contributor in Alaska.

    Daniel D. PEACEMAN, Editor of CHM