It seems like lyrics to a song, and you've mentioned it being somewhat inspired by.....
[(...) not ... you.] *don't ask.
somewhat inspired by those songs, and of course i've never heard but that matters little.
Often songs don't translate/transfer over to being poetry too well, and really that's my major criticism of this piece, musicality most definitely has its place in poetry as do grandsweeping rhythms but here you've not really attempted to apply either. (later I will backtrack and compliment you on that.)
so i think what you end up with is this huckery old bucket of a rhythm or a red bucket rhythm from the dollar store, it's just too basic and gives the feel of stupidity or middleoftheroadness. We don't come to poems for middle of the road.
Backtracking:
the great strength of this piece as it relates to evocativeness is that it's dogmatic and straight-forward, it doesn't set out to be a gry-lion or even a cheetah, and that is what makes it a keeper, it's gonna walk up to you and wop your ass, slowly, methodically, there's no changing its mind.
I think you know what you are doing in that respect and so I'll assume you'll understand in general terms.
If it were mine i'd forget about trying to match point A to point B where the sounds are concerned, imagine you are a speech writer, in the west wing (and damn that's one fine show)
But if you walk the path alone, and meet no travellers, how would you know whether or not they are smarter than you? Only once you find the path connects to those of others will you be able to measure whether or not the path you have taken is the right one, possibly ...
A random thought. *chuckles* I do that a lot. Food for discussion, things like these, 's why I like it.
I sometimes view my life a road I'm travelling and I meet many people on my path, some go faster, most travel slower. Some tag along, but I allow for none to drag in the flow of my speed, lest the tow me down and this has happened before mind you.
That's why I've began to see things a little differently. Namely to think of myself as a train; as long as there is steam the cogs will spin in my head, and nothing, can withhold the pressure for long, lest it bursts and I hurt those trying to stop me, slow me down.
*so went off topic there*
I agreed with the entire poem, thought it sound safe for one part:
"I would have hoped you'd come along
But I understand long gone"
Something itches, first: I don't agree with the sentiment in the first line and the second is a bit off.
Then again ... who am I to talk, ey? Nice work. *pats back* I wouldn't be able to~ *chuckles*
Submission Name: I Walk Alone
