first of all
up rhymed with Fuck, CLAPP CLAPP Capp. Three Points to mister Weymouth for his choice of words.
Now that i have expanded the only humor found with in my brain, i will try and dig deep in to your poem. If i may.
Love is a strange thing, i the few encounters i have had with it. I have either been burned, slapped. Or slapped very hard (yes their is a difference). I say this because your poem evokes a in me a very vivid remembrance of one such lady i fell in love with, Five points . Now that the sobbing is done i will continue digging.
Having someone to wake up next to, that right their is fate. Having someone to wake up next to that you love, that right their mister Mouth is a privileged. O their i go again off on a tangent. Ten Points.
Now comes the part where i tell you something of relevance.
This was as powerful, so much so that i came close to actually shedding a tear. You take a subject that has the potential to fall on its face and become to painful to read, and just masterfully guide it through a triple axle side filp with the grace of a leaf. the end of eternity will not even take this down to the depths of obscurity. fifty points.
Now one thing that must be explained, i am not that great at explaining things when it comes to fiction writing, let alone when it comes to a poem.
So mister Weymouth, i thank you for enduring this poor excuse of a review.
All the Best
spense
Points: 440
Reviews: 3
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