I Picked It Up and Threw It Back

4 posts
User avatar
Gender Female
Points 1254
Reviews 387
I Picked It Up and Threw It Back

You ripped my heart out that night
But I picked it up and threw it back

We talked through the evening
You made me think
I probed my mind further than ever before

You were even with another girl
But I just loved you even more

The light faded into night
And the distant music raged on
As I kept falling

We kept talking
Time kept moving
That night I fell for you with out knowing

Until you were gone
And I mourned
And If you were gone

Completely

And more time passed
And you were gone
Out of my reach, gone
Incomprehensibly, gone

But then again,
I was the one who picked it up and threw it back.



I know it's crappy. But it's something, and it has personal value. Just throwing it out there. :roll:
@(^_^)@
Got YWS?




User avatar
Gender Female
Points 3454
Reviews 694
While I was reading this is kind of struck me as more of a set of lyrics than a poem.

For it to be a poem, it would need for abstractions; more imagery; more attention to details I think.

But, if you went back through and saw it as a set of lyrics, added a few lines, a little rhyme, a little repetition--it would be a great song!

:D
Meg
My Literary and Arts Blog

"I think I'd miss you even if we'd never met." -The Wedding Date




User avatar
Gender Male
Points 890
Reviews 915
yoha_ahoy--


I must agree with write_me that as a poem, this is very weak.

It would probably generate far more success as lyrics, and I urge you to move it towards that area.


Best,
Brad
"If I have not seen as far as others, it is because giants were standing on my shoulders." -Hal Abelson




User avatar
Gender Female
Points 1254
Reviews 387
Hmm... I see your point. I was never good at lyrics but I could see how this could definitely move in that direction. Thanks!

~Yoha
@(^_^)@
Got YWS?



I think the best thing about making it into the quote generator is when nobody tells you, so one day you're just scrolling and voila, some phenomenally inane thing that crawled out of your dying synapses and immediately regretted being born the second it made contact with the air has been archived for all time. Or worse, a remark of only average inanity. Never tell me when you've put me in the generator. Pride-tinged regret just doesn't taste the same without the spice of surprise.
— SirenCymbaline