Note from the addicted

So the walking goes. Snaking in and out of the dirt tracks, I walked into slavery, a magnificent scene in front of my beloved eyes. Maybe the crime scene that was wandering in the poorly lit alleys. The alleys of despair, of hunger, of drowning, the alleys of death. I walked and saw the sorrow of the so said insane boiling out of their bloody crying eyes. We felt their claiming for change, their intuition telling them they did not belong between the rich, they did not belong between the happy, they did not belong between the so said sane. Because how could they live? How could the rich, the happy, the so said sane live in a world where tearing a heart alive from its body was a daily routine? In a world where when you do not know what it is, it is still fearful, it is still bad. Because the words slipping out of the lips of the powerful become unbreakable laws. It is for the young they talk through subtle gentle lyrics. It is for the young that will one day lead the world they manifest their madness openly. So we peacefully agree without claiming and do so. So we let ignorance continue, lying from the Church to the Council, we blame without knowing.

We saw the needles of freedom, we saw the rocks of power, we saw the pills of far far away and the magic herbs. All of them in a deathly cocktail, on the royal tables where you pay with your life to survive. We saw, we felt, we touched, we shared. We fasted for pleasure. We fasted for love. We fasted for change. We fasted because we did not belong.

And so I got scared. Scared of the unknown I was visiting in my delicate mind, in my so delicate world I built on my own. The same one that collapsed in my dream. The same dream where London was inundated, the same dream when the sun was falling on us.

And a morning I awoke with blood on my hands. With blood all over my so lonely bed and realised my crime. Realised that those suicidal ways would not relieve the days of grief. I realised that I had to fight some other way. I cried for the addicted, I cried for their pain. I cried for their so visible hollow. I cried for myself and started writing it away.

Hello jjssyy! I see that you are new to YWS. Welcome! I joined a few months ago and I love this website.
Anyways, onto the review.

You have a knack for words, I'll give you that. But your structure and grammar are poor. I had a hard time following what you wrote because I was confused about what was going on in this story. The first paragraph doesn't really seem reverent to the next three.

I walked and saw the sorrow of the so said insane boiling out of their bloody crying eyes.

I think so said should be taken out of this sentance completely. "So Said" isn't as formal as the rest of the story, so it doesn't fit. If you really find the need to say "so said insane" you should find a different word to do so. The same goes for the other times I saw so said in the story.
Also, the small font takes away from your writing. I had a hard time reading it because it was so small.

All in all, I think you have potential jjssyy! Just learn better structure and grammar. I had the same problem when I started writing stories a few years ago, and sometimes I still do. It happens to everyone.
-SodapopLunchbox

To be absolutely honest, I took one look at this and went "There is no way I am reading this." That was almost a week ago.

Now, I have nothing against prose poems, but I do have something against badly formatted poems, and this piece here is badly formatted. The first stanza/paragraph is massive, even by prose standards. You need to break it up so that it is easier to read and far less intimidating a first impression of this piece. Also, as sodapoplunchbox already mentioned, you need to work on your grammar. Grammar is an important part of formatting your writing, and not using proper grammar, especially in a prose poem, is a great way to chase off readers.

Now, as far as the content goes, despite all the adjectives you used, this poem was extremely vague overall. There was no clear, concrete, or unique imagery to be found, and you relied instead upon common adjectives such as "magnificent" and "bloody". Imagery is one of the greatest assets of poetry, and you did not use it as well as you could have. In addition, the lack of original descriptions made me want to stop reading several times in just the first paragraph alone.

Describe to me just how magnificent "magnificent" is. Is it like the feeling you get from looking up at the peak of a mountain thousands of feet above you and realizing just how massive it is, and just how small you are? Give your readers something tangible that they can relate and hold on to. Give your readers some imagery so vivid, they'll never forget it. Right now, this poem is memorable to me only for giving me a headache for trying to read it.

You also had a number of misused words, such as "claiming". I suggest, rather than relying entirely upon a thesaurus, that you also consult a dictionary to make sure the pretty word you're planning on using is also the correct one for the situation.

TL;DR - fix the formatting, incorporate more vivid imagery, and make sure you're using words correctly.