Come What May

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seriously, i have no idea what i was thinking when i wrote this, i was half asleep and had a dictonary...
________________________________________________________________________


As I hope with downcast eyes
The violent anger will subside
Oh, The pangs of death
Fly from this fatal spot
For he is handsome
but pay no attention to what he says
Love?
That, is going to far...
"Every-thing's broken there's no way around
It's so hard to smile
When you bring me down."
-
Me.




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at first this seems like a bunch of random thoughts, but they do make some sort of sense if you really read it. it's good for something written when your half asleep.
"Look in the mirror and what do you see? A shallow reflection that means nothing to me"




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You stole the name from that Moulin Rouge song!!

That, is going to far...


I don't think you really need that comma.

Plus "to" should be "too"




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Book_Worm_113 wrote:seriously, i have no idea what i was thinking when i wrote this, i was half asleep and had a dictonary...

This is always a bad way to get readers into a poem. If you honestly have no idea what you were thinking when you wrote this while half alseep, then you shouldn't be posting it in a public forum yet. If you're just making excuses, maybe you're not ready for honest critique.
If there's something you must say about your poem (and in theory, you shouldn't have to say anything at all), please say it afterwards.

Okay, with that mini-lecture aside ... This wasn't so great. It seemed disjointed, which you might have been going for, but didn't quite achieve. It made too little sense to really make sense and made too much sense to seem as if it intentionally didn't make any sense. (Did that make any sense at all?)

I like the idea between the last three lines, but the third-to-last one could use a little work. I'm not sure what it needs, exactly, but it needs something. I think it would work better if it were shorter; it feels awkward because it's the longest line in the poem.
✖ I'm sick, you're tired. Let's dance.



You may deem me romantic, my dear sister, but I bitterly feel the want of a friend.
— Mary Shelley, Frankenstein