You will be remembered

Hey there Kite

I have to agree with the other reviewers. It feels as though there is something missing from this poem. I don't really feel emotionally attached, if you get what I mean. I think that you need to be more vivid with the imaginary at times, but without literally telling us. I think that someone else has mentioned this.

The second you jumped to save,
The moment you layed, blood-stricken, and pale.

Hmmmm... there's no image, little metaphor, save for one sentence metaphors.

So, instead of thinking in similies, this is like this, rain is like God crying, pain is like an alarm clock, etc... Try and weave a web of metaphor that ties every experience to an image, and all of these images together as well.

So, to start, figure out a basic image to encapsulate your surface emotion. Laughter. You mentioned flares. So, laughter is a flare. Why? It ignites, shoots sky high. Flares are distress signals, is laughter a distress signal? Sometimes. Flares are also warning signs.

Maybe laughter is the warning sign, that which warns you of anger.

So, if laughter's the flare, anger's the fire.

Are you following my train of thought?

Instead of arguing and shouting, you probably flickered and fanned together. And maybe you grew, burning the wooden carcass of your former self. See? Flames don't argue and shout, but they do flicker. Humans don't flicker, but if humans were ablazen with the flames of anger, their shoutng would be alot like flickering, and their arguments would taint the air like smoke.

See where I'm going?

So, I'd recommend throwing this poem away, and starting anew. Ditch the rhyme scheme. Rhymming is a package. Would you buy a half full box of cereal simply because the box looked cool? Possibly, but you'd regret that when you began starving, and if you sold such a box it's safe to say very many people would be disgruntled.

Rhyme, without proper image and metaphor, is like a half empty box of cereal. It leaves the reader unfulfilled.

So, pick an experience, and tie it to an image. Maybe a babies bald head is like the moon, maybe Christmas is like an oven, maybe your family are like paper dolls, who knows.

Pick an experience, tie it to an image, and explore that image, while keeping it tied to circumstance. That's metaphor, and the base of the art of poetry.

If you have any questions, send me a message! I full of resources, ideas, and... erm... right, YWS rules...

Hello, I'm going to be your reviewer for today. Now let me be clear, this poem bothers me, it seems slightly juvenile in sense, you practically hit us on the head with the idea of 'remembering' it doesn't make me feel nostalgia it irritates me compleltly? But that where this poem fail and easily remedied diversify the phrase 'Remember the soso'.

The imagery is indeed beautiful but it lackluster, it seems tacked on. I know that sounds harsh. There is some verses which it works. This one especially stands out.

Remember that fateful day?
The hour we left for life's path,
The minute I ran astray,
The second you jumped to save,
The moment you layed, blood-stricken, and pale.