Who Knows?
By Philip Sidney
- 2070 reads
Perhaps I do not know myself.
I say, I am quiet,
I should live a life of solitude,
they say, you!
and laugh and point and stamp their feet.
I say, I am serious,
my mind is deep in contemplation
like a garden in the night,
they say, you?
and chuckle and shake their heads.
I say, my heart is full of melancholy,
it tolls like a bell beneath the sea,
they wipe their eyes, snort with mirth,
slap my back and say,
no, oh no, not you,
and I cannot help myself
so smile.
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Comments
Hi Helen
Hi Helen
Lovely poem telling how little others know the true us. Well done.
Jean
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This one really made me think
This one really made me think, Philip, and I wonder how many of us truly know ourselves, let alone expecting others to.
Tina
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The quiet and shy have learnt
The quiet and shy have learnt how to brave and cover up their true nature. Most often we are not allowed to be ourselves, as demonstrated by the automatic derogatory reactions to sensitive personal revelations. You built this up so naturally and well here.
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