z

Young Writers Society



Twigs

by hekategirl


Your long tangled hair with little peices of broken twigs
sway through the wind,
Your big goofy grin shines like the rays of the sun,
I think your smiling at me but I can't be sure,
I wish you were.
Your laugh is like a hundred angels giggling,
I laugh with you, even if its not funny,
Your baggy jeans and crumpled shirts look so good on you,
even if your mom thinks that you should iron them.
I watch you endlessly as you bang sticks with your friends
pertending that your warriors of old, killing the ememy and winning the world.
I pretend to,
I pretend that your here with me,
holding me close,
and whispering words confort in my ear,
A soft shake from my friend awakes me from my trance,
but I still stare,
wondering what it would be like to have you in my arms,
I smile.


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User avatar
1274 Reviews


Points: 35799
Reviews: 1274

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Wed Mar 23, 2005 8:18 pm
niteowl wrote a review...



I think some of the line breaks and punctuation could be fixed. I don't like to read poems with really long lines like this. And sometimes you have commas where there should be periods.

Also, it's "pretend" not "pertend". Probably just a typo.

I pertend that your here with me, holding me close, and whispering words confort in my ear, A soft shake from my friend awakes me from my trance, but I still stare, wondering what it would be like to have you in my arms,


I would probably rewrite this something like:

I pretend that you're here with me,
Holding me close,
Whispering words of comfort
In my ear.

A soft shake from my friend
Awakes me from my trance,
But I still stare
Wondering what it would be like
To have you in my arms.

You don't have to separate it into stanzas, but it would probably be a good idea.

Overall, I liked it, but you need to fix some of those mechanics.




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665 Reviews


Points: 6165
Reviews: 665

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Wed Mar 23, 2005 6:40 am
Chevy says...



"Your big goofy grin shines like the rays of the sun, "
Talking about awkward...hm...

The rest of the poem was so so, but I cannot complain because it's better than anything I've written in the past month.





Poetry is my cheap means of transportation. By the end of the poem the reader should be in a different place from where he started. I would like him to be slightly disoriented at the end, like I drove him outside of town at night and dropped him off in a cornfield.
— Billy Collins