Introspection: the self-observation and reporting of conscious inner thoughts, desires and sensations. It is a conscious mental and usually purposive process relying on thinking, reasoning, and examining one's own thoughts, feelings, and, in more spiritual cases, one's soul. Try and write a poem based on inner thoughts and feelings. It can be about a handful of things or just 1 subject that's always on your mind. It can be about a worldwide issue, a person, a scar you have, anything that makes you really sit and think... I shall present you with an example, of a time when I was walking down the sidewalk one day to discover something tragic. I always look back to it when I'm deep in thought about...death: Kiss of Death I kneel before a baby bird Fresh from the egg Cold to the touch Marked by the lips of Death I weep wondering why it left us Is the air too polluted? Did the war give it fright? Are its parents neglectful? I wish this creature could have flown and experienced sunshine as well as raindrops and even snow I think long and hard about death How the empty depths consume you and all you see is darkness All you feel is cold I create a grave for my friend, the bird with a promise to keep that I will resist the kiss of Death until I'm much too weak >>;
Sometimes I feel out of place Sometimes I want to run Sometimes I wish I had the chance To finish what I've begun The mirror shows the future face Of Life, in death it cracks Be gone from this eternal chase of lies deceitful facts. Sometimes is rotten as the last Sometimes is better than Sometimes I wish I could go back to something more, a friend. No matter what I wish that was Its all a putrid mess. Today I'll die inside, but mend this day just like the rest.
The eyes hold the truth, In age or in youth, As we groan under the wieght, Of out own oppressive hate, That do we gain, Prom all out needless pain, A product, a symbol, Nothing more than a thimble, The watcher know and see, To the core of humanity, Introspection's perspective, Never fully reflective. Clouded by fears and desires, Afraid to what really transpires, Under the surface beneath crawling skin, Only we know what is virtue and what is sin.
What Is Love? A warm sensation, A beautiful enigma, Every heart seeks love. Who Am I? I am a shadow, The objective third party, Observer of life.
