Description: I'd had this idea in my head for like a month and I'd been trying to find a way to put it together, this is the outcome. I still don't like the 4th line, it troubles me quite a bit. So if you have any suggestion on that account or any other thing that would help me enhance this be my guess. I'd also like to hear some interpretations or any thought you might care to share with me will be massively appreciated.
We wake up as one empty board
Waiting to be filled,
Then scratchy lines are written;
Scrawled hand on hard surfaces.
Often we pick up blood,
Others' laughter would come up,
Itís all about passing and getting
If at first unwittingly done.
Later we become criminals
Stealing others' gifts,
Wearing others' clothes
And suddenly Mary Shelley comes to mind.
It can be hard to reword the works of others, but I would do it something like this.
There are a couple of lines that read awkwardly; particularly, as you say, the fourth line as well as the second line in the second stanza, the latter of which can be fixed by simply changing "laugh" to "laughter," the former of which a different approach must be taken.
You piece prompted me to spend over an hour reading about Mary Shelley and her life, which was entwined with the lives of other talented writers of the day.
To me her life appears to be tragic. (Oh my, and we think we have problems!) It would be easy to accuse her of "copying" the works of others or stealing their voices, if only because of the people she chose to surround herself with.
It must have been tough to try to find an identity in all that, and to discover her own voice as separate from the others around her. This in between tragedies taking place in her life.
Actually her life story is quite overwhelming and I'm still reeling from it.
That said, my own interpretation, even before reading on Mary Shelley, is that we all take pieces of the spirits of others as we go through life. Everything we do, places we go, things we experience help to shape who we are. But what especially shapes us is our relationships with others.
We start out as such impressionable beings, imprinted by others. Then there is a moving away, at some point a sort of enlightenment when we realize there is more to life than the views of our parents and teachers; that their word is not gospel and that they are not infallible. Then comes the choice: who and what am I going to be, and importantly, what do I believe?
I think this is something along the lines of what you wanted to express.
It's a good subject matter, and I find it interesting you chose Mary Shelley to demonstrate this. With a little reworking, this could be a small piece that says a lot. Perhaps one more stanza would really bring this concept a little more to light.