3 years

3 years since I saw you
3 years since you cared
3 years since I hugged you
Are you really still there?

You were in my memory
For years after we met
But nothing could keep you with me
The day you left me we wept

You'll be in my heart forever
That tiny pocket inside
Will never let you out my sight
Those perfect shining eyes

Comments & reviews · 3
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User avatar
lillizard
Review

Um, well, there are a couple things wrong with your poem. Firstly there's the rythm. Like mentioned earlier, the ryhming kinda' through the rythm off. I think that the poem would actually be better without the ryhming.

The day you left me we wept

Yeah. There's something wrong with this. You see, I don't understand how they can both be sad when one left the other. Unless of course he died. If that were the case, you could certainly make that a little clearer. Also, if he did die, then he still wouldn't be weeping. Go figure. You could make this poem a little better if you took out the ryhming and expanded your idea a little bit.

User avatar
miyaviloves
Review

i liked it but:

Are you really still there?


The day you left me we wept

These two lines seem too long comapred to the rest of the lines in the stanzas.
I dunno what it is, but when i read it, it seemed a bit..hmph, i cant word what im trying to say! BUt if you read it ot loud, these two lines seem a bit difficult to say.

Just a thought, hope it helped

User avatar
rosethorn
Review

I think this poem focuses far too much on the rhyming and it takes away from the meaning. It sounds rather repetetive. I don't much like it at all.

Try to focus less on the rhyming and more on the flow of the words. Poetry isn't all about rhyming, it's more about meaning.


As always,

POKE



Don't aim at success--the more you aim at it and make it a target, the more you are going to miss it. For success, like happiness, cannot be pursued; it must ensue, and it only does so as the unintended side-effect of one's dedication to a cause greater than oneself or as the by-product of one's surrender to a person other than oneself.
— Viktor E. Frankl