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Literature Text
Lost
That's what some things are.
Some things are lost.
Usually people see something,
and think 'that must belong to someone.'
But sometimes they don't.
Sometimes they're lost.
I want to know where lost things go.
They're never there the next day.
But I don't find them in the lost box.
Where do lost things go?
I wanted to know, I really did.
So I sat outside and waited.
And soon I was lost.
I was a lost thing.
Being a lost thing is strange.
I knew I should be somewhere.
But I couldn't remember where.
I was truly lost.
I walked around and tried to find my way.
But no matter where I went I recognised nothing.
It's hard to go back once you get lost.
Lost things are left wandering.
I searched for other lost things.
But when I asked no one wanted anything to do with me.
And the one time I asked why, they replied,
I was a lost thing.
I had to give up eventually.
I sat next to another lost thing and told them of my search.
They replied in like.
We were two lost things.
They showed me a tool to show the way.
And I knew this was the only way.
So we used the tool to find the others.
Just us lost things.
We found it quickly.
A place among the trees where the lost things played.
A group of things that were no longer lost,
because we were found.
That's what some things are.
Some things are lost.
Usually people see something,
and think 'that must belong to someone.'
But sometimes they don't.
Sometimes they're lost.
I want to know where lost things go.
They're never there the next day.
But I don't find them in the lost box.
Where do lost things go?
I wanted to know, I really did.
So I sat outside and waited.
And soon I was lost.
I was a lost thing.
Being a lost thing is strange.
I knew I should be somewhere.
But I couldn't remember where.
I was truly lost.
I walked around and tried to find my way.
But no matter where I went I recognised nothing.
It's hard to go back once you get lost.
Lost things are left wandering.
I searched for other lost things.
But when I asked no one wanted anything to do with me.
And the one time I asked why, they replied,
I was a lost thing.
I had to give up eventually.
I sat next to another lost thing and told them of my search.
They replied in like.
We were two lost things.
They showed me a tool to show the way.
And I knew this was the only way.
So we used the tool to find the others.
Just us lost things.
We found it quickly.
A place among the trees where the lost things played.
A group of things that were no longer lost,
because we were found.
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Primary Topic: Lost things
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SFW - 249 words - contains hidden meaning
Written by
Structure: Free Verse Poem
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If you have your own meaning stop reading here. The following information may be offensive or sensitive to certain viewers, but is the meaning of the representation above.
This poem is about a girl/boy first meeting people with depression at a young age. Not quite understanding what happens to them/what they are going through. They grow up, still curious, but developing their own depression. At first they're confused about the situation and still understanding what was happening. They continue to try and stop/understand what's happening by finding others like them. In their attempts they meet people who are offended by their depression and refuse to help in any way or are just getting in the way of help. Eventually they start to succumb to the deepest level of depression and find a like minded person, giving up at the same time. They are still curious as to where all the 'lost' people go until their companion suggests suicide, the 'tool' to find the others. Already willing to give up their own life, the two commit to the idea and die together. Upon death they leave their 'lost' selves behind and come to a better place 'among the trees where the lost things played'. Finding themselves in a better place with people they fit in with, they consider themselves 'found'.
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I got teary after I wrote this. It's just such a sad story...
---
SFW - 249 words - contains hidden meaning
Written by
Structure: Free Verse Poem
---
If you have your own meaning stop reading here. The following information may be offensive or sensitive to certain viewers, but is the meaning of the representation above.
This poem is about a girl/boy first meeting people with depression at a young age. Not quite understanding what happens to them/what they are going through. They grow up, still curious, but developing their own depression. At first they're confused about the situation and still understanding what was happening. They continue to try and stop/understand what's happening by finding others like them. In their attempts they meet people who are offended by their depression and refuse to help in any way or are just getting in the way of help. Eventually they start to succumb to the deepest level of depression and find a like minded person, giving up at the same time. They are still curious as to where all the 'lost' people go until their companion suggests suicide, the 'tool' to find the others. Already willing to give up their own life, the two commit to the idea and die together. Upon death they leave their 'lost' selves behind and come to a better place 'among the trees where the lost things played'. Finding themselves in a better place with people they fit in with, they consider themselves 'found'.
---
I got teary after I wrote this. It's just such a sad story...
© 2013 - 2024 Sauny
Comments3
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That is a sad story. The poem is well written.