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Author: Lost Sheep
ASL Info:    41 M Vancouver, WA
Elite Ratio:    6.25 - 913 /773 /73
Words: 47
Class/Type: Prose /Depressed
Total Views: 1358
Average Vote:    5.0000
Bytes: 284



A baker, old before his time,
A knapsack once filled with drab coins of little value

Two coins added as a pie sells
Three coins come out to buy flour...

The pack grows lighter with every day
As the weight on his shoulders increases.

Submitted on 2006-12-15 18:36:20     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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  I liked this poem, spare in words yet long in provking thoughts and large in evoking a sense of futility and hopelessness.

The title was what drew me to it, and your thoughts are original and creatively presented. I think almost everyone can relate to this feeling at some time in their life, --sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you seem to lose ground and you wonder why you bother. But there are obligations and responsibilities that motivate --and there is always that unspoken hope around the corner.

My favorite lines were the closing ones,
"The pack grows lighter with every day
As the weight on his shoulders increases.

It's just a succinct novel way to describe a universal dilemma, and the weight of your meaning is increased by the minimalism of your lines.

Well Done
| Posted on 2006-12-15 00:00:00 | by Silverdog | [ Reply to This ]
  I liked this poem, especially for its length. I like how simply you stated the baker's loss of wealth (despite how little it was to begin with)

The last line, I think, was what left the most lasting impression on me.

"As the weight on his shoulders increases."

Wonderful write
| Posted on 2006-12-15 00:00:00 | by MystMaker | [ Reply to This ]

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