Published April 24, 2011
Spin spin the potters hand subtle flesh been moulded,
when paint of olive licks upon me white surfaces turn golden.
Full of wine I wait at table, humans sip me dry,
Then I wait, then I wait, in the darkness of the night.
Marching marching the drums of war I hear, carried to battle I fined
But still no man will ever know that I have got a mined.
Though I don't enjoy these battles, of good luck I'm a sign.
SMASH!
Lost forever the one work with eyes.
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141,395 Literary Works • 674,387 Reviews
Hi there. Lavvi in to review.
Okay. So. You really might want to focus on the total comprehension of the poem because I didn't understand it at all. It was so awkward, a lot of those sentences. I can barely understand what the concept of the poem was...it was just...bizarre. I'm sorry, but it felt really...uncared for. Like someone just scribbled a bunch of words down on a piece of paper without really thinking.
Yours,
Lavvi
Hi, so I really liked the poem, only problem for me was the spelling errors and the flow of the rhyme was a little off.
I really liked the lines in purple. Good job, though. Keep writing!
I would suggest maybe working on the flow of this, it seems a little stressed and put together to me. Try to give it more of smooth lay out maybe.