he sat with his head in his hands

He sat with his head in his hands,
wondering if he would ever feel whole,
Thinking on what he had lost,
and what he had never gained,

He sat with his head in his hands,
dreaming of the girl,
the girl that had been his,
the girl that he had lost in his arms,

He sat with his head in his hands,
crying over what he had lost,
the girl in the coffin,
being lowered into the ground,

He sat with his head in his hands,
dreaming of the lost,
the lost that was taking him,
up into the sky,

He sat wit his head in his hands,
dreading the life he had before,
now he was whole again,
as he was with his wondrous girl.

this Poem also came into my head whilst i was listning to Shayne Ward

Hi Soldier boy jack,


Not much here to get excited about. "girl in the coffin"? Yuck.

This reads like an attempt for pity. For me it was instantly forgettable.


Best,
Brad

Have you ever read The Perks of Being a Wallflower? The style of this poem is similar to the poem "Absolutely Nothing" in that. I like the style, but I think it could be polished up some.

This is by far better than anything you have posted. But the imagery is not appealing, the repetition is too much for a poem with so many short stanzas...there is just no feeling in this poem. Keep working!

I actually found this quite nice, Soldier. It flowed well and I thought you made excellent use of the repetition.

Only one thing, here, in the last stanza:

He sat wit his head in his hands,
dreading the life he had before,
now he was whole again,
as he was with his wondrous girl.

Typo - with

And 'wondrous' somehow doesn't work -- maybe you want to find a different word for there. ^_~

ok thanks guys i'll keep working on it