Young Writers Society

you never were much more than used rags
and crooked half smiles on autumn days.

you skipped all your classes,
abandoned your friends,
and slept away months in grief,
your entire existence composed of
shut eyes and empty dreams,
gray places without time or reason,
and nobody to tell you “do this.”

maybe if somebody heard your words,
maybe if somebody looked at your face and saw your eyes,
you would have survived.
you would have survived.
but nobody did,
and i can’t say sorry somehow.

lin night,


This is a bunch of navel-gazing that goes nowhere fast.

The association to used rags and crooked smiles established in the opening strophe is abandoned almost before it's finished, and this is a pattern sustained through the other two as well.

The awkward phrasing of many lines, including the last (which would be wholly more effect as, "and somehow I can't say sorry.") deflate any and all efficacy the poem originally had.


Best,
Brad

Incandescence wrote:This is a bunch of navel-gazing that goes nowhere fast.

but that's what i wanted...

i liked this.
i understood ( i think) where you were going with it.

basically someones life was worthless, they died, and you dont miss them.

your discription showed a person who's life was totall wasted. and alone.

good job, and keep writing.

kim