Young Writers Society

-EDITED-

In the deepest of filth, beneath laundry lines
on a fog soaked day in November,
A slip of a girl, no more to be seen
disappeared from the streets for forever.

There once was a place that'd make your heart race
to be caught after dusk in the night
and you'd search here and there and every square
the the tinniest hint of a light

Marion! Such a name that inspired such fame
in her customer's fantasies
And to each she'd be true for an hour or two,
til the depths of their pockets were cleaned

Now it happened this day, that amidst all the fray
Few noticed Marion's presence
On the corner she stood, stock-still as wood,
receiving no more than a glance

It began with her feet, as if she were the street
and she melted into the pavement
but she made not a sound as she sank to the ground
resigned as it was her entombment

Few know where she's gone, though some still search on
some say she flew off with the birds,
But if you would just look at the last spot she stood, all you'll find
is this pile of words.
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this was something I was kicking round in my head for a week, and I'm not so sure how it came out. I finally decided to set it in New York City although originally it was in London. It's supposed to be in the 1860's as well, though I'm not sure that comes out.

Looks like you got your two crits in. I commend you for that. We all too often see people post ten poems plus without ever giving back.

I rather liked this poem. It adds a bit of humor to a serious event, but the humor itself is almost a critique of society. Nobody cares if this whore disappears.

Marion! Such a name that inspired such fame
in her customer's wild-borne fantasies
And to each she'd be true for an hour or two,
til the depths of their pockets were emptied

I think this stanza's a bit off for rhythm and such. I've added some suggestions. I think emptied works better for your rhyme with line two. Just suggestions. Take 'em or leave 'em.

Few know where she's gone, though some still search on
some say she flew off with the birds.
But if you just would look [s]close[/s] at the last spot she stood,
all you'll find is this pile of words.

Finally, I think your last stanza may need some extra work. I don't know much about poetic structure, so I'll leave that for the some of the other good poetry critiquers here, so I'll just try to keep the rhythm and flow going.

Best of luck!

Thanks for your advice...I'm taking part of you suggestion for the last stanza for sure. *runs off to edit*

I thoroughly enjoyed this piece of writing. I liked the depth it had and the words that you used to portray this scenario. It was really descriptive and in ways it was as if I had been put onto that same street, watching the story unfold from afar. It flowed smoothly and there weren't any hiccups, the rhyming was top notch as well.

When I first read this the other day, I pictured this to be set in the 1940's in NYC. I think you've managed to capture a brilliant view of this part of society that has been happening for ages now. It's inspiring and I'm looking forward to reading more, if you've got any.

Truth, beauty, freedom, and liberation.

- Fabien.