The poem makes me MAD. I can appreciate the potential sentiment (thematic expression) that is being conveyed here – perhaps a commentary on a life that is relatively bliss and stress-free (with little to no obstacles or challenges). Perhaps it’s a commentary on the contents of the poem itself – something that until the end is devoid of tension and real thematic meaning is meaningless to consider or pursue (I’ve wasted your life referring to you as the reader wasting your time on this). Applications can then be made to the pursuit of shallow objectives without any real significance – a life that is wasted.
More so though, I want to comment on the cynical nature of the poem itself. This is a side note, a personal rant, but the cynicism and morbid nature of poetry and literary expression can often by something that while moving – is wearing to the reader. Art, without conveying some sort of thematic significance, having a kind of struggle or tension, is not art. I DISAGREE with that statement (the idea of art for the sake of art – Wildean sentiments – is something that I find myself more in line with);
