The poem in question: A Lesson To Be Learned
This poem is semi-autobiographical. I say “semi” because the end hasn’t come true yet, and I suspect that perhaps it will not completely. Oh, now isn’t that mysterious?
I wrote the above paragraph just under 11 months ago, when I originally began this poetism commentary. Looking back, this is not a poem I am particularly proud of. The meter is a mess, the narrative is all over the place, and it’s just kind of painful to read. On the plus side, it contains the word “moreso,” which both my friend Ben and the dictionary claim is not a real word, whilst I claim they are kings of the sillypants.
When I was a junior in high school, one of my LDS Seminary teachers once showed us an “epic,” i.e. longish, poem he had written when he had been close to our age. It was about some troubles he had earlier on and how lost he had been and eventually found his way back to a better place. I don’t remember the details of it, but I do remember that I liked it, and I suppose that A Lesson To Be Learned was my attempt at something similar. Without being able to compare it directly with my teacher’s, I suspect his was the better of the two.
The voices the boy hears in my poem represent the call of the devil and his angels. The line
“We will not harm you, not at all,”
Reminds me of 2 Nephi 28:21, where it is noted that “the devil… leadeth them away carefully down to hell.” We can see this all around in our society; “just a little bit won’t hurt” is the norm, and increasingly often it’s “a lot bit won’t hurt either, because it’s not really that bad at all.” Well, eventually the boy gives in, and we arrive at my favorite lines:
As he spoke the words they crowed with joy
And then dragged him away.
“One less person we must strive,”
They said, “to take and slay.”
To my imaginings, crowing with joy is an accurate description of their reaction to ensnaring a new person, especially one so young. If they can get you while you’re young and keep you, they’ll have your whole life to help them drag other people away.
So now captured, the boy realizes he was stupid, but finds it seemingly impossible to get out. He tries a few times but can’t seem to find the right road. He keeps making the same mistakes and winds up right back where he started, so he decides to give up.
But lo! Someone realizes this kid is stuck and needs some help to get out. However, he’s grown so accustomed to being stuck where he is that he lets some of the voices follow along with him, and eventually winds up right back where he was, with even less hope than he had before. Someone else helps him out, and this time he leaves the voices behind, recommits firmly himself to righteous living, and everything is happy and flowery forevermore.
I wrote this poem about two months after graduating from high school, after I had started dating a girl that I met at work. She and a girl I dated in high school (referenced in Insincerity) are the two rescuers, and since I was young and dumb (rather, younger and dumber) I of course thought that the girl I was dating then was The One, and the happy floweriness would be with her forever.
Well, probably we could have ended up together, but ultimately we didn’t, and it was for the best. Who I did end up with is the best match for me that I can imagine.
Well, 11 months later, the end still has not come true, and I still suspect that perhaps it will not completely. My strife is not ended, and though I have learned my lessons, I need continual reminding.
A few notes on variation:
The line “And then dragged him away” also exists as “And dragged him away.”
The line “He’s yet to feel real pain” also exists as “He’s yet to see real pain.”
At one point I apparently succumbed to the pressures of friend and dictionary, as “Moreso than he had earned” also exists as “More than he had earned.”
(“But lo!”? Really? Sheesh.)
Poetism Commentary: “A Lesson To Be Learned”
The poem in question: A Lesson To Be Learned
This poem is semi-autobiographical. I say “semi” because the end hasn’t come true yet, and I suspect that perhaps it will not completely. Oh, now isn’t that mysterious?
I wrote the above paragraph just under 11 months ago, when I originally began this poetism commentary. Looking back, this is not a poem I am particularly proud of. The meter is a mess, the narrative is all over the place, and it’s just kind of painful to read. On the plus side, it contains the word “moreso,” which both my friend Ben and the dictionary claim is not a real word, whilst I claim they are kings of the sillypants.
When I was a junior in high school, one of my LDS Seminary teachers once showed us an “epic,” i.e. longish, poem he had written when he had been close to our age. It was about some troubles he had earlier on and how lost he had been and eventually found his way back to a better place. I don’t remember the details of it, but I do remember that I liked it, and I suppose that A Lesson To Be Learned was my attempt at something similar. Without being able to compare it directly with my teacher’s, I suspect his was the better of the two.
The voices the boy hears in my poem represent the call of the devil and his angels. The line
Reminds me of 2 Nephi 28:21, where it is noted that “the devil… leadeth them away carefully down to hell.” We can see this all around in our society; “just a little bit won’t hurt” is the norm, and increasingly often it’s “a lot bit won’t hurt either, because it’s not really that bad at all.” Well, eventually the boy gives in, and we arrive at my favorite lines:
To my imaginings, crowing with joy is an accurate description of their reaction to ensnaring a new person, especially one so young. If they can get you while you’re young and keep you, they’ll have your whole life to help them drag other people away.
So now captured, the boy realizes he was stupid, but finds it seemingly impossible to get out. He tries a few times but can’t seem to find the right road. He keeps making the same mistakes and winds up right back where he started, so he decides to give up.
But lo! Someone realizes this kid is stuck and needs some help to get out. However, he’s grown so accustomed to being stuck where he is that he lets some of the voices follow along with him, and eventually winds up right back where he was, with even less hope than he had before. Someone else helps him out, and this time he leaves the voices behind, recommits firmly himself to righteous living, and everything is happy and flowery forevermore.
I wrote this poem about two months after graduating from high school, after I had started dating a girl that I met at work. She and a girl I dated in high school (referenced in Insincerity) are the two rescuers, and since I was young and dumb (rather, younger and dumber) I of course thought that the girl I was dating then was The One, and the happy floweriness would be with her forever.
Well, probably we could have ended up together, but ultimately we didn’t, and it was for the best. Who I did end up with is the best match for me that I can imagine.
Well, 11 months later, the end still has not come true, and I still suspect that perhaps it will not completely. My strife is not ended, and though I have learned my lessons, I need continual reminding.
A few notes on variation:
The line “And then dragged him away” also exists as “And dragged him away.”
The line “He’s yet to feel real pain” also exists as “He’s yet to see real pain.”
At one point I apparently succumbed to the pressures of friend and dictionary, as “Moreso than he had earned” also exists as “More than he had earned.”
(“But lo!”? Really? Sheesh.)