spinning spinning pot

Spin spin the potters hand subtle flesh been moulded,
when paint of olive licks upon me white surfaces turn golden.
Full of wine I wait at table, humans sip me dry,
Then I wait, then I wait, in the darkness of the night.

Marching marching the drums of war I hear, carried to battle I fined
But still no man will ever know that I have got a mined.
Though I don't enjoy these battles, of good luck I'm a sign.
SMASH!
Lost forever the one work with eyes.

I would suggest maybe working on the flow of this, it seems a little stressed and put together to me. Try to give it more of smooth lay out maybe.

Hi, so I really liked the poem, only problem for me was the spelling errors and the flow of the rhyme was a little off.

Spin spin the potters hand subtle flesh been molded,
when paint of olive licks upon me white surfaces turn golden.
Full of wine I wait at the table, humans sip me dry,
Then I wait, then I wait, in the darkness of the night.

Marching marching the drums of war I hear, carried to battle I find
But still no man will ever know that I have got a mind.
Though I don't enjoy these battles, of good luck I'm a sign.
SMASH!
Lost forever the one work with eyes.

I really liked the lines in purple. Good job, though. Keep writing!

Hi there. Lavvi in to review.

Okay. So. You really might want to focus on the total comprehension of the poem because I didn't understand it at all. It was so awkward, a lot of those sentences. I can barely understand what the concept of the poem was...it was just...bizarre. I'm sorry, but it felt really...uncared for. Like someone just scribbled a bunch of words down on a piece of paper without really thinking.

Yours,
Lavvi