Yesterday I was a sprout,
Youthful, young, taintless and unblemished.
I had nothing to worry about.
Today I'm a fresh flower,
Bright coloured, vivid, loved and cherished.
I have strenght, unlimited power...
Tomorrow... will I be just
The petal that's blown up to the sky?
Unmerciful time, can you not stop?
If only
I would never have to say "goodbye"...
I cannot make the past
Forever last.
I cannot change the present
And cannot tell the future.
The only thing I know is that today's tomorrow's yesterday.
Points:
Time spent:
IP address:
Canary word: Present
Possible AI signals:
Original Text:
Are you sure you want to delete this comment? This cannot be undone.
Mark this comment as a review? Points will be awarded to the poster.
Your comment was posted, but it wasn’t long enough to count as a review. Reviews need about four complete sentences (at least 250 characters). Try writing another review that explains your thoughts in more detail — the author will appreciate it, and you’ll earn points for it.
Thank you everybody for your suggestions!
Hello there. I am here for the review and we shall directly get down to you.
Keep writing..
I really enjoyed reading this
I think you do need to just re-check what you're writing though for spelling mistakes. Also, a technique I always use when writing a poem is to say the poem outloud. It helps me get the rhythm of the poem right, so it flows much better.
A good idea though, and so true. Time is a most depressing thing. But then, all things take time to develop and grow, you never know whats round the corner in your path of life!
Time is a scary thing... I don't think I've reached the age where I start worrying about getting old yet.
I also like the today's tomorrow's yesterday at the end. Your consistent rule of three (with the past, present, and future) and your summing it up at the end as well, is nice and neat.
What's the difference between youthful and young, in that first verse? Is it young is a physical state and youthful is a mental state?
I think I'm too conservative when it comes to poems; half the time my brain screams out at people blatantly ignoring the rules only elementary schoolers really have to follow when the poem has real thought behind it. I like the metaphor of the flower throughout, and I like how you described time as 'unmerciful' in that third verse; I disagree with your meter.
I really like it. Maybe try some of my suggestions? You don't have to. All poems are up for different interpretations.