Young Writers Society

Hey it's your sis here to bother you!! Actually, I'm going to give a singularly awesome review and you're going to love it.

Anyways, this was a very beautiful poem and you did an amazing job showing the contrast between the "adult" world and the "child's" world. There are a few things that I would fix, though.

Watching the letters etch my child years in scratchy movements of colored swirls

Purple streaks find the orange lines that merge together in perfect harmony

These things are as unforeign to me as the face my father wears every day.

The memories becoming nothing more than dusty photos, forgotten behind a wall of spider-webs in the back room.

Wow Tim. I really like this poem. I didn't know you could write poetry like this! As this is my first review I'm sure I will break lots of rules I don't know exist.

First, I love the stubby fingers. It helps put an age on the child and a picture in the readers head. I think I liked it better when you mentioned the fist. It helped me see how the chalk was being held (in my mind).

"Etch my child years". It seems to me that child should read as childhood in this sentence.

I also liked your last line that mentioned chalk. It helped link that sentence to the thought of childhood.

Overall, I really enjoyed your poem. It was a reminder that we need to not completely grow up and to not forget our childhoods.

This poem was very beautiful, poetic, and it touched my heart. It is true, usually when children grow into an adult most of them forget their childhood, but some don't. My parents didn't. My parents talk about their childhood a lot. I understand that most people are busy, trying to get a job, afford a apartment, afford a car, and are doing a bunch of other things, but sometimes they just need to take a minute, and look back at their childhood remembering all the times, her/he and her/he family had together everyday. Most people just need to unlock the chest of old photos and just take a few days or minutes or months, or whatever, and just remember their childhood.

So for any adults out there, don't just leave your childhood locked up in a chest forever, go to it unlock it and just remember all that your parents did for you to have a great childhood. Go do it now and remember the fun you had when you were a little girl or boy.

First off I didn't see any mistakes in this poem, and even if their were a few nitpicks and all I am sure you are very smart to figure them out. (Don't take that the wrong way, I just think you are smart). But for the most part no big mistakes.

Second. I really like how you are explaining that people don't look over their childhood as an adult, they just sort of forget about it, if you know what I mean and I think you did a good job of explaining that.

I am sorry that this review is really long I just really like your poem.
Talk to you later.
<3 (heart) (love)
Dogsrule5

Hey there, Timmy!

Well, this was definitely something you don't usually write! I have to say I liked it a lot. The message behind it was brought in such a nice way, how people can't always hole on to the things people love but instead need to let the past be left behind them. Even though we only get to see two little snippet bits of the character I feel like we get to know them a lot already, seeing some of their past and later seeing them as they are now. Which of course, added all the more magic to the poem ^.^

One thing that became a bit too repetitive in the poem was the word 'chalk'. Now I know most of this poem resolves around the chalk and the chalk drawing, but at the beginning I just saw the word mentioned so much so closely together it got a bit redundant. And then again at the end too. I wouldn't change them all, but I think it might be time to hit those synonyms and start looking for replacement words?

I walk away, leaving the chalk behind.

Heya, Timmy! Here to review~

So, I'm taking a stab here and guessing--this is prose poetry, right? I'm not much of an expert when it comes to the "do"s and "don't"s of prose poetry, but I do think this would function better as flash fiction, mostly because poetry usually consists of vivid images and chains that link thought, emotion and memories together. Poems can tell stories, but they tend to use a lot of figurative language. I'm not saying you need to use a lot of figurative language because honestly, this is lovely as it is. It's actually pretty difficult to differentiate between flash-fiction and prose poetry; they're like twins, and they share many characteristics. I found this while rafting around on the internet:

Generally speaking, the base component of a poem is the line (and line break), which culminates in an image, whereas the base component of a short story is the sentence and its big brother, the paragraph, which convey character(s) and character development.

I drew my name in chalk on the sidewalk, allowing the vibrant words to fill my mind with visions of yesterday. Watching the chalk etch my child years in scratchy movements of colored swirls, until those years came out in a flood of memories that engulfed me.

My stubby fingers hold the stick of chalk with a fist.

drawing a vibrant picture

father wipes them off to make sure I is safe from identity thieves, and I watch with a puzzled eyes.

A voice echoing down into a place that I know I can't go anymore.

This is amazing and very unique! I really like it! My favorite part is the last three paragraphs. They had great imagery and were very captivating. The beginning part was awesome as well, but for some reason the ending part really stood out to me! The concluding sentence was powerful! Bravo to you, For making a masterpiece!