Career

Books, pencils, drafts and red lines,
All enforced at the young age,
Timelessly fought with whines,
Through sweat, tears and rage.

At first an annoyance, a duty,
Later the destiny’s grey fork;
Left being a hell’s deputy,
Right being a horse’s work.

I wish I could see the happy faces
Of people coming back home,
Coming from various places,
Coming tired to their ‘dome’.

Spoiler

Wrote it on a whim after a long break from poetry =) Has my pure thoughts.

Hmm...I'm not quite sure how to review this poem. I adore it, that's for sure but other than that...I don't really have any other comments about it. Well, I mean...I do like the fact that you put, as you said, your "pure thoughts" into this poem. An awful lot of people just write a poem for the heck of it but I personally think every poet should have a reason for the poems they write. But anyway, I really like this poem and I can't wait to read more from you. Keep up the good work.

I don't get reviewing over here. I mean, sometimes it is preposterous to go on and read someone's stuff and twist it and cut it and well how can we ever know the real feelings and sentiments of the person behind..

I can appreciate yes and it was nicely and straightforwardly written. Good luck =)