death in beauty

The thought of beauty is suicide. It rips at your mind to be more than just that girl.Where everyone will worship the ground you walk. Yet, in doing so, never will the thirst be satisfied. What you thought in the beginning will never cease to exist; the thought that you were ugly then and your ugly now. No matter how your features twist and transform you shall never be content. You'll keep searching as your mind, ever so slowly, poisons you til death is the new beauty.

I just read your last poem and I get the same feeling with that one as this: I feel like your telling me, not showing. Your narrating through words, but your not throwing images or emotions at me.

Ah, you may want to get a second opinion. Because I really have no idea what I'm talking about. This was just the impression I received when I read it.

Good luck and keep rhyming,
******The Universe***********

XxxcagedheartxxX wrote:The thought of beauty is suicide.I don't like this first line. Try something like, the image of beauty is death. Or a more simple, beauty is suicide. It rips at your mind to be more than just that girl.Where everyone will worship the ground you walk Again, a little awkward-- and try to eliminate the cliche phrasing. Maybe "You want to be the girl who everyone worships"-- or make up your own creative wording.. Yet, in doing so, never will the thirst will never be satisfied. What you thought in the beginning will never cease to exist; the thought that you were ugly then and your ugly now Repetition is a good tool, but I would say nix one of the "thoughts"-- replace it with fear, maybe.. No matter how your features twist and transform you shall never be content. You'll keep searching as your mind, ever so slowly, poisons you tiluntil death is the new beauty.

Although this is a very poetic paragraph, and I like the piece, I don't feel like it's a poem. Maybe it would better fit in the 'Narrative Poetry' Forum?

Or perhaps with some tweaking we can make it a poem:

XxxcagedheartxxX wrote:The thought of beauty is suicide.
(I would omit 'the though of' as your previous reviewer suggested, or maybe replace with 'Envy for', or 'Lusting for')
It rips at your mind,
to be more than just that girl.
Where everyone will worship
the ground in which you walk.
-
Yet, in doing so,
I would omit 'Yet, in doing so,'
Never will the thirst be satisfied.
What you thought in the beginning,
will never cease to exist;
the thought that you were ugly then
and you remain ugly now.
-
No matter how your features twist.
No matter how your featurestransform.
You shall never be content.
You'll keep searching as your mind,
ever so slowly, poisons you.
-
Til death is the new beauty.

I really enjoyed this poem. It is hard to be content when you are focusing on something so superficial as your physical appearance. Beauty fades with age, and so one can never be pleased. I just wish you had taken this poem one step further. While you do a beautiful job of pointing what folly it is to focus on your appearance, I wish you had described how true beauty, the stuff that never fades, is something that comes from within. Being a kind person, who serves others and is never judgemental. That is a beauty that would never poison your mind.