03-14-2025, 01:37 AM
I read all of your guy's feedback and altered the poem in a lot of different ways, I'm still a bit weary of the last two stanzas as I didn't change them from the original piece. Would the poem benefit more from just scratching out these two stanzas or should I keep them?
Version Three (Current)
I am Not My Past
I am not my past.
The sands of time can be easily vitrified.
The Ink upon paper
Knows of only one moment.
I find difficulty defining my present self.
I scroll through pages,
Research my experiences,
Only to find outdated definitions.
The dictionary lies on my shelf,
Although I handle it carefully.
The binding is worn,
And the pages are fraying.
A book with every meaning
Even defines itself.
Still, I lack the words
to define my own being.
I’ve been told I am priceless,
But is that really true?
My eyes can perceive
The price tag of pupils.
My ears can discern
My cost as a child.
My mind understands
To be deemed worthwhile,
I must lose myself,
My love and my style.
I could sell all these things,
Make millions losing myself–
Reduced to a number.
I’ve become a binary,
A collection of ones and zeroes,
encoded for the exploitation of my own self.
01001001 00100000 01100011 01101111 01110101 01101100 01100100 00100000 01100111 01101111 00100000 01100001 01100010 01101111 01110101 01110100 00100000 01101101 01111001 00100000 01101100 01101001 01100110 01100101 00100000 01110100 01101000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01110111 01100001 01111001 00111011 00001010 01001001 01110100 00100000 01100110 01100101 01100101 01101100 01110011 00100000 01110011 01101111 00100000 01101101 01110101 01100011 01101000 00100000 01110011 01101001 01101101 01110000 01101100 01100101 01110010 00101110 00001010 01010100 01101000 01101001 01101110 01100111 01110011 00100000 01110111 01101001 01101100 01101100 00100000 01100011 01101000 01100001 01101110 01100111 01100101 00101100 00001010 01000010 01110101 01110100 00100000 01001001 00100000 01110011 01101000 01100001 01101100 01101100 00100000 01110010 01100101 01101101 01100001 01101001 01101110 11100010 10000000 10010100 00001010 01000001 00100000 01100010 01101001 01101110 01100001 01110010 01111001 00100000 01110000 01110010 01101001 01110011 01101111 01101110 01100101 01110010 00101110
Translation:
(I could go about my life this way;
It feels so much simpler.
Things will change,
But I shall remain—
A binary prisoner.)
That’s how the writer of this poem feels.
You can’t blame them for the way everything went down.
Although many may say the writer and I are the same,
the ones and zeroes do vary;
I am not the writer of this poem.
This poem represents who I was,
but it’s only a singular moment in time—
melted down to a few words.
It’s been 46 lines since I’ve told you:
I am not my past.
The sands of time can be easily vitrified.
The Ink upon paper
Knows of only one moment.
I find difficulty defining my present self.
I scroll through pages,
Research my experiences,
Only to find outdated definitions.
The dictionary lies on my shelf,
Although I handle it carefully.
The binding is worn,
And the pages are fraying.
A book with every meaning
Even defines itself.
Still, I lack the words
to define my own being.
I’ve been told I am priceless,
But is that really true?
My eyes can perceive
The price tag of pupils.
My ears can discern
My cost as a child.
My mind understands
To be deemed worthwhile,
I must lose myself,
My love and my style.
I could sell all these things,
Make millions losing myself–
Reduced to a number.
I’ve become a binary,
A collection of ones and zeroes,
encoded for the exploitation of my own self.
01001001 00100000 01100011 01101111 01110101 01101100 01100100 00100000 01100111 01101111 00100000 01100001 01100010 01101111 01110101 01110100 00100000 01101101 01111001 00100000 01101100 01101001 01100110 01100101 00100000 01110100 01101000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01110111 01100001 01111001 00111011 00001010 01001001 01110100 00100000 01100110 01100101 01100101 01101100 01110011 00100000 01110011 01101111 00100000 01101101 01110101 01100011 01101000 00100000 01110011 01101001 01101101 01110000 01101100 01100101 01110010 00101110 00001010 01010100 01101000 01101001 01101110 01100111 01110011 00100000 01110111 01101001 01101100 01101100 00100000 01100011 01101000 01100001 01101110 01100111 01100101 00101100 00001010 01000010 01110101 01110100 00100000 01001001 00100000 01110011 01101000 01100001 01101100 01101100 00100000 01110010 01100101 01101101 01100001 01101001 01101110 11100010 10000000 10010100 00001010 01000001 00100000 01100010 01101001 01101110 01100001 01110010 01111001 00100000 01110000 01110010 01101001 01110011 01101111 01101110 01100101 01110010 00101110
Translation:
(I could go about my life this way;
It feels so much simpler.
Things will change,
But I shall remain—
A binary prisoner.)
That’s how the writer of this poem feels.
You can’t blame them for the way everything went down.
Although many may say the writer and I are the same,
the ones and zeroes do vary;
I am not the writer of this poem.
This poem represents who I was,
but it’s only a singular moment in time—
melted down to a few words.
It’s been 46 lines since I’ve told you:
I am not my past.