Blood Red

Blood
Blood is red
Blood isn’t ketchup
Blood is dark
It keeps you alive
But the absence of it makes you dead
I cut for a reason
To make this blood gone
People don’t understand
Especially the one’s who don’t cut at all
They all cut for the wrong reasons
Attention
Popularity
And some just to get high off of depression pills
I don’t cut cause of those
I cut for a good reason
Cause of my life
It’s the only reason
I keep myself dead
I might seem happy at times
But I am really not
I really am just a black rose
Once covered up by a red one
The red is dripping off of me now
Like the red was just blood
My pains are being revealed
I can’t trust no one any more
No one can keep
The dark secrets inside me
They are best kept inside of me
Only for me to ponder on
So no one gets hurt at all
I am dark
I am deep
I shouldn’t exist
So I will pick up this knife
And start cutting
I will end my life tonight
Stop making me suffer
Stop hurting yourself
Cause know look what you have done
You have ended your one problem
Me

Dear, if there's one thing about poetry you don't force it. It doesn't come from the mind it comes from heart and soul. What you feel, there's times when you compare things to each other and times you don't. Don't force it, make it flow if you have any questions PM me or Suzanne or Amelia. Hope this helps.

your forever and always
-Max

Hehe, thanks insomniac for suggesting me ^_~ And then, here I am..?

All I really have to say is this: some things are poetry, some things are blog posts hiding in verse form. This happens to be the latter. Which isn't a problem at all; poetry is a very good way to get your feelings out, on paper, express yourself, and in the end you will feel better. But poetry to share, to be read, to inspire someone else, it usually isn't done in such a manner.

Why not get a good book on poetry? That will help you figure things out. Poetry is hard at first, it really, really is. I'm still bad at poetry! But, it only takes a step at a time.

Best of luck! And yes, if you have any questions, you can always Pm me.

Well, I must say I really enjoyed this!

Your first stanza was the best, thanks to the line, "Blood is not ketchup." That line saves the poem. Without it, it would seem like a depressed ramble, but by bringing a roadside diner condiment into it...wow, that's genius.

You had other really good lines, but they're in danger of being lost in some of the vague, empty lines you threw in there. Here, look at this. I'll put all the unnecessary lines in bold:

Blood
Blood is red
Blood isn’t ketchup
Blood is dark
It keeps you alive
But the absence of it makes you dead
I cut for a reason
To make this blood gone
People don’t understand
Especially the one’s who don’t cut at all
They all cut for the wrong reasons
Attention
Popularity
And some just to get high off of depression pills
I don’t cut cause of those
I cut for a good reason
Cause of my life
It’s the only reason
I keep myself dead
I might seem happy at times
But I am really not
I really am just a black rose
Once covered up by a red one
The red is dripping off of me now
Like the red was just blood
My pains are being revealed
I can’t trust no one any more
No one can keep
The dark secrets inside me
They are best kept inside of me
Only for me to ponder on
So no one gets hurt at all
I am dark
I am deep
I shouldn’t exist
So I will pick up this knife
And start cutting
I will end my life tonight
Stop making me suffer
Stop hurting yourself
Cause know look what you have done
You have ended your one problem
Me

I suggest cutting out all the bold lines and seeing where that takes you.

Good job! Keep writing!

I try not to be harsh, but this really wasn't my favorite. It feels so forced. Compairing blood to ketchup just seems wrong somehow. It feels to me like you are trying to justify cutting to someone.

Its a little bare, there isn't any real depth.

I'll try not to be harsh.
I didn't like it. It didn't flow, there was no punctuation and some of the ideas were very cliched. Comparing blood to ketchup isn't exactly useful in the situation.
However, the metaphor about the rose was good, but you need to fix it up a little.
Now, I'm not saying I'm the best poetry writer, but I wouldn't suggest using this topic. It has been greatly used and I know from experience people will say the same; Its cliched and emo.
Try another poem with a different topic, one that is close to your heart. Don't force the poem out.
You have potential though, so keep writing!
Charlotte
Sorry for being so tough!

I agree with Lottie...
Wow Kitty...
You Death poem was great...but what happened here?
It's like you dropped a grand piano on your head and then wrote this.
I'm not trying to be mean or anything just...wow

~Lulu

Blood isn't ketchup? I disagree.

Read:

Oda al tomate

por Pablo Neruda


La calle
se llenó de tomates,
mediodia,
verano,
la luz
se parte
en dos
mitades
de tomate,
corre
por las calles
el jugo.
En diciembre
se desata
el tomate,
invade
las cocinas,
entra por los almuerzos,
se sienta
reposado
en los aparadores,
entre los vasos,
las matequilleras,
los saleros azules.
Tiene
luz propia,
majestad benigna.
Devemos, por desgracia,
asesinarlo:
se hunde
el cuchillo
en su pulpa viviente,
es una roja
viscera,
un sol
fresco,
profundo,
inagotable,
llena las ensaladas
de Chile,
se casa alegremente
con la clara cebolla,
y para celebrarlo
se deja
caer
aceite,
hijo
esencial del olivo,
sobre sus hemisferios entreabiertos,
agrega
la pimienta
su fragancia,
la sal su magnetismo:
son las bodas
del día
el perejil
levanta
banderines,
las papas
hierven vigorosamente,
el asado
golpea
con su aroma
en la puerta,
es hora!
vamos!
y sobre
la mesa, en la cintura
del verano,
el tomate,
aastro de tierra,
estrella
repetida
y fecunda,
nos muestra
sus circunvoluciones,
sus canales,
la insigne plenitud
y la abundancia
sin hueso,
sin coraza,
sin escamas ni espinas,
nos entrega
el regalo
de su color fogoso
y la totalidad de su frescura.

So yeah... not working.

If you are going to use that as a simple statement, you must back it up with proof with more imagery and whatnot. And, if you cast allusions on other poems and then disagree with them, be prepared to back your poem up with substantial evidence. Otherwise, your reader is never going to take your poetry seriously.

This piece is kind of old...