Stolen Emotion

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Points 2664
Reviews 113
What have you done to me?
A haze of chaos as affections shudder.
Once we experienced wonder,
innocent and childlike,
but your love drifted away.
A clouded vision of memory -
emotions follow pain, follow hate,
love burnt to ashes.
In a torrent of sorrow,
I still love you.
When all you have is nothing, there is alot to go around.




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I can see the story you're portraying with this, which is a sad one, obviously, and a story very frequently portrayed in the media. I like it, but the beat is strange. Read it aloud and see if it sounds right. Other than that, I've found no forseeable problems. keep writing! :mrgreen:
And the angel said unto him, “stop hitting yourself, stop hitting yourself.” But lo, he could not stop, for the angel was hitting him with his own hands.




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Gender Female
Points 2333
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This is the poem of a first love. A first love can seem like the only one. You grow and you change yet that person remains and you are constantly wondering, what if? This poem is told honestly. The emotions you qrite about are truly from the heart. My favprite line "emotion follows pain, follows hate" very intriguing. This poem read easily and had a unique flow to it. I am impressed. Good Work!




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Points 2664
Reviews 113
Thanks, Everyone!
When all you have is nothing, there is alot to go around.




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Gender Female
Points 1836
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Hello there, emmylou1995!

I like this poem. You did really nice with it and managed to show what you wanted to say/the story that was going on quite well. =D

I can't wait to see more of your stuff! Keep up the great work and let me know if you ever need anything.

~Heather
[Griffinkeeper] 10:45 pm: The guard appears "We have weasels now!"
[Firearris] 10:45 pm: askes the guard for the weasel!
[Griffinkeeper] 10:45 pm: The guard gives Firearris the Weasel.
[Firearris] 10:46 pm: aquires the weasel and renames it "Cat"

Take that, Lumi.



The bigger the issue, the smaller you write. Remember that. You don’t write about the horrors of war. No. You write about a kid’s burnt socks lying on the road. You pick the smallest manageable part of the big thing, and you work off the resonance.
— Richard Price