Young Writers Society

Jane’s Animals (Don't need an apostrophe, it should be Janes Animals)



I think about writing a poem as I (A poem though within a poem... An interesting idea, but it puts me off reading a little.)

leaf out of my room to the humidity (You're trying to hard here to put words in to match the summer foliage idea. It's too noticeable.)

of corridor air, like rolling head- (Get rid of the like)

first down the stairs.



they’re begging for mercy, for freedom, (Capital T on they're)

for Jane, locked inside their cage. I (Locked inside of their cage doesn't fit the sentence here.)

look out the window: it’s raining,

and the towers of New York are corned (I think you mean cornered here.

in black clouds.



They don’t seem to care that the sun always

rises on them first, sets on them (this line annoys me a little. 'rises on them first, sets on them last' Doesn't fit well together.)

last.

Gadi. wrote:Jane’s Animals

My shoes clap like a baby’s hands---------------just a bit cliche here
as I enter the new house. In San Diego
we never had wooden floors and
rows of green, summer foliage
flapping against my bedroom window.

I think about writing a poem as I
leaf out of my room to the humidity ---------------leaf?
of corridor air, like rolling head-
first down the stairs.

The knob to the attic is cold and---------------- wet belongs on this line
wet. Inside, Jane’s dusty horses
glare at me with tired, fusty eyes;-----------------Frustrated is a much better word..
they’re begging for mercy, for freedom,
for Jane, locked inside their cage. I -----------------put the I on the next line
look out the window: it’s raining,-----------------Theres just something wrong with this line.
and the towers of New York are corned
in black clouds.---------how about in dark and dreary clouds it helps with the theme of the poem

Those horses and bears and dogs don’t
know what’s outside, don’t know how
good their lives are. In cool, crisp mornings, <----Work on the lines here. It looks like a paragraph.
I wake up to the azure shadows of dawn.
They don’t seem to care that the sun always
rises on them first, sets on them
last.