Unconsoled

Unconsoled By Bluewind

Broken –
I am shattered in this wretch.
So broken, so shattered,
I don’t know if I’ll ever survive.

They opened a hole on me,
Stuff in all kinds of stuffs,
They say: C’est la vie,
So you shouldn’t defy.

Hurt –
Yet tis what I clearly feel,
Yet they say: tis not true,
You’re merely in a self-pity feel.

Yet they scream inside,
Desiring to free outside.
“What a loser!” said outside,
“to be crying all the time!”

Yet they never see,
The wound that hurts behind.
The wound hidden from sights,
For they only see,
What they want to see.

Secretly –
I heal by my own.
Hidden from the view,
I doubt if they knew.

C’est la. They say.
This is how you should behave.
Yet who ever cares to know,
The pain that never cease to be?

This work seems untimely as the semester is almost finished. But what I am trying to say is that art and literature is not and should not be something confined by academic learning. Outside our university life, there is a world much bigger outside and art and literature should expand much more after that.

I am quite troubled by some family problems these few days. During this time, I happened to come across Ishiguro's The Unconsoled and realize that the tone and the mood of the novel coincide my feelings and situations now. From this lurid state of mind come this confused and confusing work.