8

I lie here in the snow,

feeling cold and numb.

Trying way to hard,

to avoid the seeking sun.

and when I see the golden ball,

peek over the hill,

again I will trodd on,

to a place that's colder still.

Searching, always searching,

for the light that becons me,

I flee and scream and scatter

when light car'es the 'rizon seem.

Alone and cold,

I do not tremble,

I'm beyond that now.

I'm like the oaks and pines,

I will not bend or bow.

On and on I carry on,

into the snowbanks and steep inclines,

farther farther and farther still,

I continue even though I've fallen ill.

I lie here in the snow,

feeling cold and numb.

Far to cold to shed a tear,

or call out to someone.

And when I see distant things,

I tried to crawl away,

from the warmth and exctacy,

that the sun put on desplay.

I tried to dissapear,

I tried to close my eyes,

but oaks and pines dont bend,

they break,

and that left me compromized.

I lie here in the snow,

feeling cold and numb,

trying very hard,

to ignore the blaring sun.

the sun returned my health to me,

the light brought back my sight.

again I got back up to flee,

and I fled into the night.

(march 19-2011. well before i was redpilled i was a very edgy and depressed chick. if only i knew then what i know now)

I lie here in the snow, feeling cold and numb. Trying way to hard, to avoid the seeking sun. and when I see the golden ball, peek over the hill, again I will trodd on, to a place that's colder still. Searching, always searching, for the light that becons me, I flee and scream and scatter when light car'es the 'rizon seem. Alone and cold, I do not tremble, I'm beyond that now. I'm like the oaks and pines, I will not bend or bow. On and on I carry on, into the snowbanks and steep inclines, farther farther and farther still, I continue even though I've fallen ill. I lie here in the snow, feeling cold and numb. Far to cold to shed a tear, or call out to someone. And when I see distant things, I tried to crawl away, from the warmth and exctacy, that the sun put on desplay. I tried to dissapear, I tried to close my eyes, but oaks and pines dont bend, they break, and that left me compromized. I lie here in the snow, feeling cold and numb, trying very hard, to ignore the blaring sun. the sun returned my health to me, the light brought back my sight. again I got back up to flee, and I fled into the night. (march 19-2011. well before i was redpilled i was a very edgy and depressed chick. if only i knew then what i know now)

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8 comments

A truly brilliant piece of Feminist poetry, if there ever was one.

I wish I could give it a truly decent literary analysis, but alas, from my male perspective, I can never understand the true plight and agony of women in this male-dominated and misogynist world.

However, if I had to venture a guess, I would assume that the cold and snow represented the deep and silencing lonesome depression that results from living in a world of masculine indifference, a world where men literally only care about a women's body, and anytime a women attempts to say anything other than "I want to give you a blowjob", men just chuckle and disregard everything she has to say, telling her to keep her chatting limited to the sewing circle with the other hens.

However, out of the depths of winter rises a warming glow, the Sun, in the form of modern day Feminism. The phallic oaks and pines, representing all of the West's Toxic Masculinity, eventually break, liberating this oppressed woman from their shadows, allowing her to bask in the warmth of unfettered sisterhood with xher fellow non-heteronormative kin.

Truly awe inspiring, as I view it, although my interpretation may not be correct, because even though I am a male feminist, I still view things through a lens of straight white male privilege, so I can't expect to understand her struggle.

Soon, I expect, the author will see my sensitivity and praise of her work, and we will strike up a conversation. Eventually we will meet in real life, and she will be wooed by my lack of toxic masculinity, and then we will have sex.

Because, I, I am a male feminist white knight on the internet, and that gets ladies wet as fuck.

lol i am very intrigued by your interpretation but not sure that i should take it seriously based on how your comment ended, very amusing either way.

after you encouraged me to write some poetry for this forum i decided to look at some of my old work to see if it was worth sharing. most of it was trash, but this one caught my eye, even though its got alot of incorrect spelling and weird play on words.

im not exactly sure what was going through my head when i was in highschool, but my new interpretation goes something like: the sun is the truth, it is happiness, gender roles; but the person in the story doesnt want to submit to the light even though it would save her life. she wants to be something she is not but has been told to be, a strong oak tree, (i realize now it may have been a metaphor for feminism) and she thinks that the only way to accomplish this is to run away from the truth, but pursuing that is only making her more sick and cold, it is hurting her because she is denying her nature. the snow represents depression. the sun would alleviate her mental suffering, but her whole world and identity revolves around suffering and being depressed. the sun threatened her very way of life. so rather than embracing the sun she makes it worse by running to her problems for comfort. the darkness and night representing willful ignorance.

really this poem is a great example of how feminism is hurting woman

We've all been through that phase. For me, it started in my 20's after I read Germaine Greer's The Female Eunuch.