Righteous in my own way

I bet not too many people want to tackle these kind of subjects. S'why I'm here.

did you mean to say conceited at the beginning? And if so, you could say, I conceded my conceited mind a year ago, tho, I still like dropped it off better.

Okay, now taking this thing in as whole, I don't know if I would get it without the blurb you gave about infamy and whatnot, and even then, I don't know if I got it. It might help to structure it, or just break it up a little. Okay, now zooming in again

couldn't you say, one null year of operating alone? I think it would just flow like that.

do you want a period after teak? when I read it first, I thought the sentence continued to the next line.

I can see you have a fabulous vocabulary. Having said that, vocabulary isn't everything, and having said that, extensive vocab is cool to see.

I like how you talk about the psyche as a disk, perfect example.

...to liquidate sorrow's ire?

ah yeah, I see the spurning of ideals really speaks to me. Is this like a if-you-can't-join-them-beat-them-down kind of attitude?

You really have a knack for personifying things, which you maybe do a little too much, and tho I love how you do it, you may do it slightly to much and lose us sometimes. I only don't become lost if I pay, very, very close attention. Which all that means, you are probably more intelligent than most of us, and you might have to dumb it down sometimes.

oh my. be the judge or do nothing? that's quite some food for thought.

I have no idea what 90-proof is, so I think I lost a little kick at the end there. Erm, I kinda see to being outcast, not fitting in with everything/everyone, and as a solution, taking matters into your own hands, being the judge so as to get a feeling of justice, in kind of a spite towards...well, most everything I suppose. Just make them pay attention, no matter the cost, even if it makes you look like a raving mad lunatic and stuff. Just make a name for the self, even if it's in a negative light at least people won't look through you, and you won't have to walk around like a ghost that slips through everything, and with this solution, makes you able to cling onto reality and life in that manner.

Well, that's my interpretation, from what I see. If it is like that, well, I have a character I made like that, who goes basically by a motto, "Infamy is better than total obscurity."

This was nothing short of epic though, and you're writing and conceptualizing look top tier my friend. Have a swell day, keep writing and looking up,

Wow! You have an insane amount of talent. This poem was sooo good! I’m speechless right now. It upsets me that it doesn’t have more reviews but I think I know why, it’s the format. When I first started reading your poem I felt overwhelmed, it looks like a paragraph from a novel. Maybe you did this on purpose, so ignore me if you did, but I think this poem would read better if it was broken into stanza’s.

This is how I would do it, but if you prefer to break it up a different then it’s entirely up to you!

"I dropped my conceded mind off a year ago.
One year of null and operating alone.
I substituted with conceit without fear of putting on a show.
Its only for me, they'll never know.
A year was all it took to find my way, it ended soon after.
It seemed like a day. You can cite media all you want.
The psyche is unique, it burns your disk with insuermountable taunts.
Mine was deep-seated and cast in fire.
Like a ceramic antique. My outlook kept me free of worldly desire.
But this left a trail of knockless teak.
Sorrow was all it took to see true fame.
Even if that recognition was considered an unholy flame.
There was plenty of time for you to throw in.
To gather your conscience, to liquidate its ire.
To expose your hypocrisy, to accept or reject it,
forge a life of your own, to hone your mellow tone.
There were stopgaps to deploy, and hands to offer,
there were ideals to spurn, and malice to burn.
Now we are left with ideals that were learned,
and all that weve burned is greater than we've earned.
Losing ideals that kept you aligned,
is like sticking a knife into your spine.
Immobile and insolent, your thoughts you redacted.
But still they needed a common enemy, you reacted.
You helped them to feel that they knew one another.
In a couple of years they would be torn asunder.
Your rage would lack glory, your acerbacy potency,
be the arbiter now, or hold your tongue indefinitely.
Close those doors, this one is the crème de la crème.
Who's told you otherwise?
You came in small and they kicked you like a ball.
But your exit will justify their cries and repentance.
Your exit wound can buy you the attention you sentenced.
So blow a hole wide and tall in thier understanding of it all.
Many more will fall through, maybe they will see the truth.
And burn their disk without 90-proof."

This is just a suggestion of what you should do but by formatting it like this it looks much more appealing and I wouldn’t want people to skip over your poem just because of the format. I fixed a few spelling errors and some grammatical errors but other than that I think it’s perfect! The voice in this is extremely distinct, it is so well written that it’s almost haunting.

I’m not sure if you have any more poems or stories on YWS but I’m definitely going to go look!

PM if you need anything

-Nicole