Letting Go and Forgetting

http://www.internal.org/Robert_Frost/Ghost_House

Everyone feels haunted when someone dies. They see the deceased in dreams and in their thoughts. Many can never seem to let go. Their loved ones are dead; they need to move on. It is the most heartbreaking action to do sometimes: letting go. In Ghost House by Robert Frost, the tone is filled with beauty, yet longing, loneliness, and sorrow as it describes a lonely house with two ghosts haunting it. His poems are usually hard to understand at first, but even when the reader cannot understand the words, it's the fluency and the beautiful imagery that draws them in. Usually, ghosts are supposed to be scary, but somehow, the reader cannot help feeling for them as well as the speaker. Robert Frost shows in his poem the pain of living without someone.

How can anyone live without a loved one? This question comes up much of the time in today's books. The Hunger Games, the Twilight series.... The one piece of literature anyone's mind goes immediately to is William Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. Both Romeo and Juliet believe they cannot live without one another and because of their families have been enemies since who knows when, they kill themselves. Most people do not realize the idea of being rational. Many would agree with Lady Capulet in saying "Therefore have done. Some grief shows much of love;/ But much of grief shows still some want of wit," (3.5 73-74) In other words, although grieving shows a great amount of love, it also shows some need to see reason : There is no way tears can bring a loved one back. The whole poem gives a sense of how the speaker's world has fallen apart. "And left no trace but the cellar walls,/ And a cellar in which the daylight falls...." The poem is pretty much made up of symbols. The speaker makes it sound like he has no life beyond this house of ruins, making the house reflect his world.

One of the pains is when people forget while others remember. When people do not remember, how can they support others? Everyone needs to remember what pains the person to be able to help. "I dwell with a strangely aching heart/ In that vanished abode there far apart/ On that disused and forgotten road...." In these lines, it shows that the speaker's world is far from everyone else's, but also they have forgotten the pain. Their worlds have not fallen apart as his has. Everyone forgets so easily because they do not feel the pain as much. If anyone ever loved, they would feel broken. This is why it is so easy for them to forget and move on with their lives.

Robert Frost shows in his poem the pain of living without someone. Any person's world can fall apart at the loss of a loved one. Many people today are never the same after someone's death. The person may have not have been of much importance in their life before, but everyone is affected. The only difference between someone truly broken and just anyone is that the person who is broken will remember and the just anyone can forget. With all this, I have to go back to my experience with suicide on my mind. I have no doubt everyone does not wish to hear about it, but I told my mom about my suicidal thoughts. Anyone have any clue what she said? She said she would never be the same if I died. I know for a fact that this is true. My mother has always tried to protect me (from the Board of Ed., my dad, false friends taking advantage of me) and whenever her children are unhappy, so is she. My mother would not easily forget, but I have no doubt almost everyone else will mourn my loss for awhile(Maybe not even.) and then forget me.

You Never Feel

You never feel true distress
until you cried, knowing
no one would come
to your aid, knowing
no one can hear your cries,
no one can see your
bowed head, your hair
glued to your face, your
red eyes still flowing
with your eternal tears,
knowing you are no more
than one emotionless rock,
a ghost in the dark unseen.

You never feel true joy
until your father tells you
how proud he is of you,
tears spring in those
dark eyes of yours, knowing
someone saw you- not looked
through you, but truly
saw into your very being,
knowing you meant something
rather than nothing.

You never feel true depression
until your friend abandons you
for another without a single word,
leaving you to believe you
did something wrong
or perhaps did not
do something you were
meant to do- maybe
just not being the right
person, the right friend,
knowing you will never
be the right friend
in anyone's eyes-
not even your own.

You never feel true irritation
until your brother claims
everything is your fault,
that you can do
no right just as your
father seems to say
with unspoken words,
knowing deep down
you can't do right
no matter how hard you try.

You never feel true longing
until a boy comes and
makes you angry
enough to yell in his face
yet wish to help
him in any way you can
and until talking to him
is no longer a desire
but a need, knowing
he will never see you
the way you do him,
knowing you will never
find the perfect person for you.

You never feel true anxiety
until reality hits you
in the face and you have
to walk the hallways, unsure
where each way will take
you, unsure what the future
may hold for you, knowing-
never knowing what will
come next.

You never feel true peace
until you can escape it all
and go fly on wheels, letting
the breeze go through your hair
letting yourself try to outrun
youself to see if you can
leave behind your body and
all your problems and instead
return to the comfort of your
memories, knowing time will not
slow down for you yet
knowing memories are precious
and no one can take them away
from you, knowing to hold on
to them but move into
the future set before you.

Ode to My Brother

So wonderful are your words
of criticism on all topics-
music, words, life....
never bothering me
despite how you see
all my faults,
So generous are your actions;
taking my pen- my greatest weapon-
my witch hat- my possibly greatest accessory-
even sometimes just taking nothing,
yet still making me believe
you did take something,
taking even my joy and
replacing it with frustration,
irritation, anger, sometimes even depression;
So beautiful is your mushroom head(haircut)
of dark, straight threads,
your thin, but broad-shouldered
still growing figure which
has passed me, leaving me
with the feeling of being small
and others with astonishment
at finding my darling brother
is younger than his already
newly-teenaged sister,
Your sense of humor endless,
full of sarcasm and
often going miles even after
the joke holds amusement no longer,
How honored we are to have
such a brother and son
in my family-
with you going between
sister and sister,
one older, one younger,
making each scream
which you take such delight in.

Saying Good-bye

With each day, I come
closer to leaving the world
I love filled with my family
and friends, yet come closer
to the place of plenty
where He is-
where I will see
His face and know
my wait is over.

There where the sky
blue and filled with
bright sunshine, the air
fresh and unpolluted,
the people- His people-
praise Him eternally
for His mercy and love,
where there is no
darkness, no temptation,
no pain, no war....
only light and beauty.

I no longer know this
world as it has grown and
I will never be able to
understand it as I once had,
the world belongs to
the generations after me,
I no longer belong,
I belong somewhere else,
my time is closing
when it will be time
to say good-bye.

Life Is

Life is \
a book full of
color, both dark
and bright,
a thing full of
memories, beauty,
joy, yet so much
darkness; cruelty,
hate, fustration,
death, confusion,
yet I wish
it was not as
full of desperation
and depression.

Life is
trying and trying,
continously trying
to do the right thing,
yet ending up in
face-down failure.