Watching Her

When things were awkward
Between boys and girls,
Nothing could make me approach her.
I would never comfort the exhausted child.

She'd shy away when I looked torward
Her obvious tired frame,
But I felt no urge to help her.
I never asked what was wrong.

How could I have rudely ignored
The wounds I saw in her eyes?
She'd wipe away invisible tears,
And I never understood why.

Hanging by a thread was her composure,
And she in a world of hate,
Of course she never found acceptance,
And I will take the blame.
Innocent are those who do not see
And so do nothing and have no shame;
But I henceforth bare all the guilt,
For I saw, and left her all the same.

Hmmm...I'm not really pleased with this poem. Mostly because I wrote it like at one in the morning. Is there any hope for it, or is it one of those poems that you just throw down the drain?

Hmm.. I'm not so sure about this poem actually. In some places the rythmn was lacking or it just didn't work but in others it was quite an enjoyable read. The imagery was the same and I found that in some places; you've made it way to strained, or complex, I'm not sure which.

I like the concept, it's pretty original and I think that with a little adjustments here and there, you'll have the foundation for somthing that will definately progres the rest of your poetry and writing. Hope this helps.

Thanks for reading it! I will definitely take another go at this poem when I'm more awake and there is indeed a sun outside, striking the crimson leaves on the blood-bathed tree outside my window.

I'm in such a strange mood.