Fight

Long before I breathe my last breath,
I look forward for a fight.
It always happens like this,
I always lose and never win.

Why is this ?
Can this change ?
Why is faith always the same ?
My conscious slips between the cracks,
how many times will this continue ?
Is a fight forever in the menu ?

Force me into one once more again;
And I'll just keep praying that I'll win this fight.

Comments & reviews · 4
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kitrosemon13 wrote:Long before I breathe my last breath,
I look forward for a fight.
It always happens like this,
I always lose and never win.

Why is this ?
Can this change ?
Why is faith always the same ?
My conscious slips between the cracks,
how many times will this continue ?
Is a fight forever in the menu ?

Force me into one once more again;
And I'll just keep praying that I'll win this fight.


A loser is writing this poem but its approach is as like as of a winner.. keep it up...

User avatar
Abigail_W.
Review

Hi Kitrosemon13! What Shepherd said!

Two little corrections:

:idea: You don't need a space before your question marks.

:idea: Your second line should be, "I look formard to a fight."

Great work! As Shepherd said, this has "definite potential."

User avatar
Shepherd
Review

This poem seems to be a little disorganized to me.

The ideas just don't seem quite cohesive, and it reads a little bit like a rough draft that could use some refining. That is not to say that it isn't well written, and emotion rolls off of your prose very nicely. You have definite command of your wording, but I think that you could smooth it out a little.

The disorganization stems, I think, from the fact that you have a lot going on in such a short poem. The rhetorical questions, instead of shedding light on the deeper meaning of the poem, seem to only reinforce our initial confusion. I would love to see you flesh out your ideas here, and make this into something perceptive and interesting--it has definite potential.

Good work!



Tell me, what is it you plan to do / with your one wild and precious life?
— Mary Oliver