The End

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Sorry for not being too consistent on this forum. This is a little poem i wrote and will like you to have a look. I sincerely need your critique.





The silver cord
Has been loosed,
And the golden pot
Shattered.
The soul of intensity
Has given way to
Feigned strenght,
And the heart is dead.




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[quote="praisejoe"]


The silver cord
Has been loosed,
And the golden pot
Shattered.
The soul of intensity
Has given way to
Feigned strenght,
And the heart is dead.[/quote]

(Try this)

The silver cord, so cold;
but yet loosend.
The golden pot,
falls, shattered.
The soul of intensity,
has given this way to;
fight, live.
But, it is too late.
The heart is dead


Hello praisejoe, Max here, it's a great poem, if I actually knew what you were talking about, you should add a little detail to it, I coudln't find much wrong with it. So like yeah, ummm I think this is pretty good but you shoould add a little bit more it's just a paragraph, think of me as the reader.

1. I have no idea what your talking about.

2.You want to make me want to read MORE of your work instead of me saying, "I want the last 3 minutes of my life back." And so on and so fourth.

Anyways, sorry I just tore up your poem, it's for the best I can only hope. Any questions or comments, go ahead and PM me. Good luck and keep writing.

-Max
We're meant to be one
I know we are...
If I am the Sky
Then you are my star... ™




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I'm kind of thinking this is a suicide poem, but then I'm not sure what the golden pot is. Strings, or in this case, silver cords, are often a metaphor for life - but a pot? So you lost me there. "The soul of intensity" is really strange to say. What kind of in tensity, why, and why does this matter? How did it give way to fake strength, and what caused it to? Why is the heart dead?

I think it's a great beginning to a poem, but it's too vague right now for me to completely grasp the idea or feel along with it. The silver cord is a great idea, and easy for me to catch on to, but the rest of it was kind of confusing. It's also incredebly short. Think of it, poetry is short as it is. The shorter the poem, the better every word has to be so you can clearly get your idea across.

I hope this helps! If you have any questions feel free to message me, and best of luck!
“It's necessary to have wished for death in order to know how good it is to live.”
― Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo




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Hey praisejoe!


Hmmmmmmm... To be quite frank, I don't understand what you mean by this poem at all...

Could you Send me a private message explaining what this poem means? If you do, then I shall come back and critique it at once.
I came into this world wrinkled and ugly. And no matter how much I accumulate here, it's a short journey. I will go out of this world wrinkled and ugly. So I enjoy life.




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The last line is haunting and believe it or not it sticks with you.
I wish i could say the same for the rest



Dogs love their friends and bite their enemies, quite unlike people, who are incapable of pure love and always have to mix love and hate.
— Sigmund Freud