But no one came…
Carl Heskin 2008 (Phoenix)
Perfect silence, interrupted only by the temporary cries of a broken mind. These cries of pain and time become muffled as the room becomes darker, darker, darker. I can’t see. I’m scared. Help, a meager voice cries out. Help me please. The voice raising only slightly, but no one came.
The frightened voice searched around the room in a panic but it felt empty, he couldn’t find anything. That is until he found a desk. The desk was comfortable. There was no light but that was okay, he didn’t need it anymore. He continued to feel around, this time with a calm confidence. He found an eraser. It brought him comfort. In a place where nothing was seen or stable he held on to the eraser. He thought maybe a pencil was nearby considering the eraser but his theories proved incorrect and all he was left with was his own thoughts and a destructive tool. Eventually his desperation took him he tried crying yelling “please help me, I don’t want this anymore” but no one came.
On his 5,475th day trapped at his desk a loud pop ran out of his room. The pop revealed colors and creativity the likes of which he had never imagined, and would never imagine. As his mother walked into his room all she could do was freeze. The tool of destruction he was holding was all that was left. His creativity, his enthusiasm, his ingenuity all of it gone, and all it took was one swipe with his eraser. The floor was covered with beautiful colors and bright bustling cities, but he wasn’t there to witness it. He wasn’t there at all.
About this poem
A commentary on how conditioned we are to kill our creativity
Font size:
Written on August 11, 2023
Submitted by Bodiemoosman228 on August 25, 2023
- 1:25 min read
- 2 Views
Quick analysis:
Scheme | A A X |
---|---|
Characters | 1,545 |
Words | 284 |
Stanzas | 3 |
Stanza Lengths | 1, 1, 1 |
Translation
Find a translation for this poem in other languages:
Select another language:
- - Select -
- 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
- 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
- Español (Spanish)
- Esperanto (Esperanto)
- 日本語 (Japanese)
- Português (Portuguese)
- Deutsch (German)
- العربية (Arabic)
- Français (French)
- Русский (Russian)
- ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
- 한국어 (Korean)
- עברית (Hebrew)
- Gaeilge (Irish)
- Українська (Ukrainian)
- اردو (Urdu)
- Magyar (Hungarian)
- मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
- Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Italiano (Italian)
- தமிழ் (Tamil)
- Türkçe (Turkish)
- తెలుగు (Telugu)
- ภาษาไทย (Thai)
- Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
- Čeština (Czech)
- Polski (Polish)
- Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Românește (Romanian)
- Nederlands (Dutch)
- Ελληνικά (Greek)
- Latinum (Latin)
- Svenska (Swedish)
- Dansk (Danish)
- Suomi (Finnish)
- فارسی (Persian)
- ייִדיש (Yiddish)
- հայերեն (Armenian)
- Norsk (Norwegian)
- English (English)
Citation
Use the citation below to add this poem to your bibliography:
Style:MLAChicagoAPA
"But no one came…" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 23 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/167215/but-no-one-came…>.
Discuss the poem But no one came… with the community...
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In