Come What May...

When a friend dies you can't deny the pain, so you explain it all away.
It's denial that runs thick in all of us those who love.

And come what may, come what may- you'll love them till your dying day.
All those times that you had together you can't forget, especially when you realize they aren't that many.

What feels like forever is time condensed into a package, and you've gotta hold tight to it because anything and anyone can take it away.

We love too much and we fall so hard, and it breaks my heart to see anyone that way.

When your tears sink hot into my shoulder and your hug takes my breath I know it's all I can do.

So when I sit silent trying to find words to say, trying to make it better, I know I'll be sitting there longer than forever, because nothing, nothing can make it good again.

Nothing will be the same, everything is a little bit harder to handle and a stray word could cause hurt deeper than a canyon.

But someday I hope we'll be normal or as normal as people like us could be.

Until till then, I'm here. Silent. Still. Waiting. Just waiting, for you to need me there to comfort and come back as a best friend.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------



RIP Hannah

-Maggie

Your poem is very dark, and I loved the imagery and descriptions of betrayed love. It is a very realistic and vivid poem, but the lines are very long and so I would consider it as prose.

Perhaps try splitting up the lines in each stanza; the first one could stay the same, but on the second:

And come what may, come what may- you'll love them till your dying day.
All those times that you had together you can't forget, especially when you realize they aren't that many.

You should split up the first line after the dash, and then on the second sentence after "together" and so on so that the poem can still make sense on each line, but hold a lot more suspension.

It's a nice poem, but unorganized. To start with, the beginning verses are divided into stanza’s consisting of two lines, but as the poem progresses you wander from this configuration and the poem becomes disjointed. Also, is there supposed to be a rhyming scheme to this poem? Some verses do, some don’t. I’m not a huge fan of poetry that dithers between the two styles, I think it should either all rhyme or just not rhyme at all. Furthermore, in reference to your rhymes, I found that they tend to be somewhat repetitive (ex: way, away, etc). Overall, this has great potential, and with these minor touchups, your poem will become that much more powerful. Cheers,

Cameron

Thanks for the ideas _Anti_ !! I think I might edit the post to so it's like that. That is if the computer is in a good mood today.
I'm glad you liked it =)

I see what you mean. And I didn't mean for there to be any rhyming. That was totally coincidental. The 'Come what may, Come what may' line is from a song. (Do we need disclaimers???) But that you and I'll try to fix it up as you suggested. Thanks for reading!

-Maggie

I liked it. It held a certain depth without straying from some relation to the reader. The words you used are common (and I mean "common" in a good way) and the imagery you used was beautifully relative (a pun without being a literal one).

I however feel that you really didn't need a line from "Come What May" or the song at all to stabalise this poem. Making something this personal she be totally yours.

It's often useful to allude to other people's work in your own, and I don't think that exact quotes, in a context like this, constitutes plagerism.
My approach is usually to put the line that you've taken from elsewhere in italics - it highlights the fact that you've done it, so it's not as if you're stealing it and trying to hide the fact, and it brings that added emphasis in without going over the top.

So, yeah, italics. If you ever think of publishing something with that kind of line in, though, always remember to get permission from the copyright holder. That's a whole other issue, though, so don't worry.

Hi Tropicana,


This poem strikes me in two lights. The first is that it was written -- like most poems are -- at the onset of personal, emotional breakdown. The second (a consequence of the first) is that the question of where poetry becomes prose -- or vice-versa, however you wish to view it -- is answered in this poem.

The first light requires you to set this aside, move on, then return. You can not complete poetry without time. Indeed, the conceptual aparatus that frames most poetry is time itself, so utilize that.

The second light requires you find your voice--a difficult thing to do.

As for now, I am not overtaken with emotion, and I feel like I have read a perhaps heartfelt but inarticulate entry in Chicken Soup.


Good luck with this,
Brad