I know poetry is supposed to be abstract and leave room for unique interpretations, but those are what I fear the most. What if I get it wrong? What if I wrongly interpret the one thing the poet spent countless hours contemplating and make the poem go to waste? Is it the poet's fault for not being specific enough, or mine for not looking deeper?
It might just be a personal problem, even while I'm daydreaming, I try not to contemplate philosophical questions which I know for sure can't have answers because, like the poems, they will only lead to more and more contemplating and result in mental strain. The only time however when I try to contemplate a poem is when I find something I disagree about. Now that I think about it, the best work I write is when I don't agree with someone/something. Take for example this poem I wrote in eighth grade as a response to Robert Frost. (please don't judge, it was almost 4 years ago)
Rocks (I had to meet the word count for the assignment which is why it is so long)
If you didn't read it, I basically said that every road comes with its own advantages and disadvantages, and made a point for why the destination is more important than the journey. I know part of that is wrong, our experiences make up a huge part of us, but I still went all out and found every reason I could to disagree with Frost just because the poem was questionable.
I realize that this might be another purpose for poetry, giving people another reason to speak their beliefs because they might've thought no one cared, or that they had that perspective in the first place.
looks like the poem doesn't work
here it is
Why is the path always covered with obstacles
Why can’t we really see much of where we are headed
Until we get there
Why does it always have to hurt when we take another step
The road may be paved, but
There are still rocks in the way
To help puncture the bottoms of our feet
So that we might linger on the journey
It might be a mud road but
The surface will never be level
Perfect to slip and sprain
So that we might not even be able to get up again
All of us started out on the best road
Smooth, level, and lush, and eventually
Had no other road to walk on without a dead end
And had to keep going on the hard road
Every turn makes the road change
But the rocks and dents are the struggles
Each road has an equal number of them
The rocks are even in roads taken by the kindest people
And on the other hand there are some people who ask
For their road to be cleared by others
So that the sweepers won’t get to travel their own journey
So that they will have to get their own feet punctured first
Why do these rocks exist,
What is their purpose?
Why do these struggles exist ?
Even for the people who try
To take away struggles for others?
Is it for entertainment?
Is the one up there using it to teach us a lesson ?
On perhaps what we might have done in the past?
Or is it just because of balance?
Is this what the universe is based off of?
Equal and opposite reactions?
This is only to keep us going
And to keep us motivated
If the rocks weren’t there for us to step on,
Our feet would be fine
There would have been no point
of going on the trip itself
The road can be changed
But the conditions will not
You might try to make it as clean as possible
So that you can have the best journey for yourself
But that is not how it works
Sweeping the rocks wears out the road
This is how the dents are made
Making an even more painful trip
But after everything just know that
The road is not to be chosen
But the destination is
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