Analysis of A STRANGELY AWFUL LIFE



It’s a strange and awful year it seems
When truly nothing turns out right,
Darkness brings great horror out
And daylight soon gives way to night.

Terror is now a way of life
As the old year quickly fades away,
And with the year your hopes and dreams
Lie forgotten in a shallow grave.

So soon goodness gives way to bad
As in a rut your life is surely stuck,
No chance remains for you to cling to
No hope, no dreams, only bad luck.

Nothing in the world turns out right
As darkness swamps your every dream,
Endlessly you have to fight the urge
To give in to the urge to scream.

For horror is a way of life
For people from this side of town,
When you move into the west
You know your life is going down.

For no-one dares to dream anymore
In the west of Melbourne town,
Gloom and doom pervades the minds
Of the people western-bound.

Home is but a dingy hovel
A house but surely not a home,
A place to hide away from life
From where your every dream has flown.

Losing is the only way
For people living way out west,
All your chances long have flown
For life has stamped you second-best.

Young people living in the streets
And those before their time grown old,
No longer can pay their heating bills
To survive another winter cold.

And so when winter comes to town
The poor repose asleep inside,
Afraid to leave their wintry bed
Afraid to leave for lest they die.

THE END
© Copyright 2021, Philip Roberts
Melbourne, Victoria, Australia


Scheme ABXB CDAX XEXE BFXF CGHG XGXX XXCI DHIH XJXJ GXXX XXX
Poetic Form
Metre 101010111 11010111 1011101 0111111 10110111 101110101 01011101 101000101 11101111 1001111101 110111111 11111011 10001111 110111001 100111101 11010111 11010111 11011111 1110101 11111101 11111101 0011101 1010101 1010101 11101010 01110101 01110111 111100111 1010101 11010111 1110111 11111101 11010001 01011111 110111101 101010101 01110111 01010101 01111101 01111111 01 101010 100100010
Closest metre Iambic tetrameter
Characters 1,389
Words 272
Sentences 11
Stanzas 11
Stanza Lengths 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 3
Lines Amount 43
Letters per line (avg) 26
Words per line (avg) 6
Letters per stanza (avg) 102
Words per stanza (avg) 25

About this poem

Another poem about the horrors of being poor in winter.

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Written on January 14, 2010

Submitted by PHIL_ROBERTS on July 21, 2021

Modified on March 05, 2023

1:21 min read
0

Phil Roberts

I turn 65 on the 31st of January 2022. I love cats, rock music, and horror fiction and poetry more…

All Phil Roberts poems | Phil Roberts Books

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