our shattered window pane

Hi there @Spilledink I am here to review first things first.
What I like
Why can't everything be mended and anew? I don't really no the reasen I like this sentis but I do.

what needs work
with no way home; why can't the go home this is a bit stranch to me am I missing something to this.
all the cracks in our wooden frame. okay what do you mean because there not even home wears the frame.
seem to enlargen as the devil, okay enlargen is spelt wrong so I will try to fikse that for you enlarge n that is how you spell it, that is the only way that I now. okay also I still do not get the word devil it is a bit of a creepy word.
Shattered glass strews my bedroom floor, okay what is going on I really am confused right now.
The tearstained notebook with ripped pages, why dose it have riped pages
lays open on my bed filled with words scribbled in haste; I am going to see if I can help you out here.
The rain storms through the open window, I am shore that there is a bit more that we can do with this line.
Suggestions
1 for: lays open on my bed filled with words scribbled in haste;I lays open on my bed filled with words scribbled in haste and dislike;
2 for:The rain storms through the open window,The cold heavy rain storms through the shated and creaked window, so that is all that I can say, so keep up the good work, HAPPY REVIEW DAY.

@EagleFly out to seek and kill

Hey there, Spilledink!!!

This is Eros here, with a review for this beautiful piece of poetry of yours !

So... Llllllet's BEGIN.

The title of the poem catched holding my attention. And it compelled me to read it out at once. The title was super awesome and so was the content of the poem. The title doesn't even make us think, it would be such a painful poetry. That's the best thing. Because we love getting surprise during the reading.

I loved the words you have used and reh way you have expressed the broken window and the effects of that.

It is a poem in which the narrator is questioning to the person ..perhaps he lived with (otherwise it wouldn't have been 'our window'). The person was angry and he/she left the home. In anger he/she broke the window pane shattering the glass on the floor. There are pieces on the floor, pieces of the broken glass. The tear-stained notebook, with ripped pages .. lies on the bed.

Here comes the part that was full of pain:

The rain storms through the open window,

soaking my clothes and face

because there is no glass to shelter me.

Why did our window have to splinter?

Why did you have to yell and break it with your

angry fist?

Why can't everything be mended and anew?

Now, it's just our shattered window pane.

I've always had a soft spot for poetry, I have to admit, but this is a truly beautiful poem. I could understand exactly what you were trying to say, and I loved the way you phrased it. While reading poetry, I often find poems that I feel I've seen read before, but this one is an entirely unique concept to me. I also really like your style of writing. It's very poetic sounding with a bit of a soothing yet recklessly emotional ring to it. If that makes any sense of course.

A suggestion from me to you would be to try to use more intense words. Words that hold impact. If you get what I mean. I always like to flip open to a random page in a dictionary and read all the words on that page. It reminds me of all the words out there that I often forget while writing and even teaches me some new ones that inspire me to write. If that doesn't sound like something you want to do, you don't have to. It's merely a suggestion.

Anyway, I believe that you are a beautiful poet, and I hope that you keep on writing. And posting on here of course. I'd love to see more of your work.