Tell me please, what's my name?

The mind is a strong prison that can know destruction as easily as it knows love.

Tell me please, what's my name?

I seemed to of forgotten it, long long ago. 

I see flashes of love across my vision, 

Yet it's crispness keeps me from knowing, 

Who I really am. 

Am I that of a slave to the unknowing? 

Or am I a student under the mind of un-thoughtful teachers? 

Once ago, I lived upon a solid rock. 

Long, far away, I was a child, filled with no ill intent. 

Now I'm afraid I may wield that which will save me. 

Tell me please, what's my name? 

If only I have that, I may know the truth, 

Or at least have knowledge of who I once was. 

I am inexplicably a child lost to time, 

And all I wish is to retrieve back what has gone astray. 

Was I never to know all that everyone kept secret? 

Am I to be held in this laboratory?

I, but a simple test subject to those who carry PhD like a warning badge?

I do remember one thing, I was a simple child, 

So innocent I would have freed a poisonous spider that had bitten me. 

Tell me please, what's my name? 

I seem to of forgotten it long long ago, 

When I was far off in the woods, 

Lost away from that I called a home. 

I remember only a rough bandage around my head, 

And a house thereafter where voices scratched at me to beg for mercy. 

Even as I escaped the captors of my body, will I never escape those of my mind?

Will the stiff voices in my head never fall still? 

Will I forever be their puppet and I their puppeteer? 

There was somewhere, where I was as alive as the sun, 

Believed to be so small and perfectly harmless to the world. 

Tell me please, what's my name? 

I don't believe I'll remember it, 

Even when you whisper it in my ears. 

I've gone deaf long ago, my mind shut off from the truth. 

Lies are my family, deception is my lover. . .

Who can claim to be lost, when they are coddled by such true fallacies?

Author's Note

The mind only believes, what we feed it. If it is to forget all your woes, than it will wipe all your memories and trap you within its hold.

Reviews

[Ian Craven]

I really liked this poem. It has a lot of truth. I noticed in your sentence...."I am inexplicably a child lost to time," It would be correct to say, lost in time, not lost to time. I believe lost in time flows better in the poem too. It's just something I cought as I was reading. It's a poem though so you are allowed to break the rules if you want. :) Overall, very nice job LKB!

[Lauren]

Thank you! I do see what you mean, I guess I feel that 'Lost to Time', has a different meaning for me than 'Lost in Time', although they both are great ways of formatting that sentence for the poem :) Thank you again for your review!

[Coyote Poetry]

I loved and I understood this poem.
"Lies are my family, deception is my lover. . .
Who can claim to be lost, when they are coddled by such true fallacies?"
Sometime we look into the mirror and we don't recognize the face looking back. I believe need place of comfort and joy to bring back old dreams and wishes. Powerful flow of statements led reader to strong ending. Thank you for sharing the excellent poetry.
Coyote

[Lauren]

Thank you, I'm so glad it could touch you! You're observation is so true and powerful. Thank you again, for your awesome and heart-felt review!

[Coyote Poetry]

Was my pleasure and you are welcome.

[Surabhi Kaushik]

Love the last stanza in particular. Very well written.

[Lauren]

Thank you!

[D]

Somehow it reminded me of Iron Maidens song "back in the village " to a certain part "Questions are a burden, and answer are prison for oneself "

lovely write.
yes sometimes the mind wipes memories. some traumas can cause that too, like being abused as a child etc.
some victims said they are at some level aware that something happened, but the memories seemed to be blocked for long.

back to the piece from authors note..lol

" Tell me please, what's my name?
I don't believe I'll remember it,
Even when you whisper it in my ears.
I've gone deaf long ago, my mind shut off from the truth." loved the lines. describing perfect madness.

[Lauren]

Thank you! It is true how carefully our minds work, wiping away memories we don't want to have.
read moreThank you! It is true how carefully our minds work, wiping away memories we don't want to have.
I'm glad I could definitely get across a solid message, and totally, madness feels sometimes like the key to sanity. Thank you again for your review, very in depth and mindful!

[D]

You're welcome

[Damon Chambers]

Ok, well I am officially a fan.. Words escape me at the moment. Very nice poem, thank you for sharing.

[Lauren]

Thank you, I didn't realize I'd gain a fan from writing :) Your comment has most definitely boosted my confidence :)

[Lorry]

This is brilliant, with the exception of it leaving me wondering how you got inside my head :)
This is brilliantly done, I love the way that it starts with the reader thinking "Why didn't she call it amnesia?", but then unwraps the layers, like a protective coating, to reveal that we do not forget through choice, but by the will and actions of others around us. Everything we see on a daily basis should be an alarm, yet we don't even question the conditioning we go through from such a young age, by school, rules, government and media. No wonder we forget who we were and live a life so lost from where we thought we were aiming to be as adults. The of course their is the adults in our life as kids, who shape and mould us into future hopes of themselves, while not realising that the little kid they admire so much has a voice of his or her own. Life is a lottery at every turn and we are but a product of their nurture, unless we can break free from our thoughts and remember how to be that person we remember being.
***Sorry, this probably doesn't make sense to anyone reading it, as I am too falling into the habit of personalising your words to my thoughts, so apologies if your message was lost in that.
I love how you made each verse resonate more strongly than the last and your last line begs for further analysis. Love it.

[Lauren]

:) Thank you, I'm glad I could write something that stuck to your mind. And yes, it's so true, that this poem is not about the instant forgetting of someones memories, wiped out by a literal bump on the head. It's a child, lost to time, forgotten by the constant pestering of societal duties and calls. We ever so much listen to what everyone else is trying to tell us who we are, we forget who we are and - most importantly - who we once were. It comes to the point that then you can't even remember who you were and no matter what people tell you about your past self, it's heard to deaf ears that have been blown out by society.

And do not worry about my message, you really hit it on the head with your words. And for any differences ever, in any work of writing, it's up to personal interpretation. We all go through different trials in life, and that leads us to seeing things differently with how they touch our hearts.

Thank you again, for your amazing beautiful review.

[Lorry]

You're very welcome. :)