For day 25, the prompt given by napowrimo.net was to write a poem that is either an answer to a Proust questionnaire, a questionnaire in itself, or the answers to some (or all) questions given in the form of a questionnaire by NaPoWriMo. I chose to go with the last option. I couldn’t answer all 35 questions, but I did answer a solid 32. That’s not too bad, right?
I chose to write the most unfiltered thoughts I have every time I am asked these questions. Usually, a lot of people answer questionnaires in a very filtered manner, which I really did not feel like writing about, today. But regardless, I think I did a good job. To better understand the questions, I’d highly suggest you take a look at this questionnaire given by NaPoWriMo, right here. I hope I’ve done the prompt justice, even though poetry is super subjective in nature.
But hey, at least I am keeping up!
Happy reading! Xx
‘Perfect happiness’, that sounds like peace,
Though my loneliness wouldn’t put my mind at ease–
I hate, despise, and deplore how I crave love,
It nauseates me when people give up.
I think the world of those who gave me life,
I fill my shelves with books stacked up too high,
But none could save me from losing my mind;
A little detachment could help, if I tried.
I save white lies for the rainiest of days,
I’d rather break the mirror than look at my face,
Though, there’s no living person I despise more than I–
There’s nothing more endearing than a man who tries.
While women radiate love and warmth like the sun,
I’m sick of thinking ‘Maybe, I’ve found the one.’
But the greatest love of my life would forever be art,
That’s where you’ll find me, happiest at heart.
I sometimes wish I was a better conversationalist,
If I wanted to change things about myself, I’d need a list.
I’m not a lot of things, but I pride myself in my art,
I’d like to come back from the dead as a cat, because why not?
I dream of living somewhere in the midst of hills and vales,
I treasure the flowers on my desk the most; they don’t fade.
The deepest of miseries I’ve seen is my shattered heart,
If I could, I’d make a living out of art–
Some would say it’s what I live and breathe for.
I’m drawn to people who make me feel at home;
I don’t see myself in any history, not Shakespeare, not van Gogh,
My real-life heroes have always been Dad and Mom.
I most dislike being shackled by rules,
And the day I gave my heart away, I will forever rue.
Should I ever die, I’d like to be recalled in art,
One thing I live by– love will never run out.
~© Shubhangi Srinivasan.
I hope you liked my poem! You can always let me know what you think of it in the comments below. I would love to hear from you! Feel free to drop in and say ‘Hi’ to me on my socials to see what other shenanigans I am up to, as well!
Be back soon with another poem!
Cheerio! Xx
Featured Image by Gülfer ERGİN on Unsplash
The Shubhster Diaries 
Leave a comment