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We were supposed to grow old, dance,
lean trustingly against each another...
We were supposed to clasp withered hands,
still see the youth in each other...
We were supposed to never sleep apart,
not even a night or two...
Oh God, it's not true...
I can't have lost you.
| i don't believe you. And if you want to write a poem and speak of loss and sadness... you should make your reader believe it. feel it. make their heart drop and their eyes well up with a hint of tears. only then will you succeed in such a piece.|
loss in real life was never trite.
how do you make the reader understand how you truely feel and not just sound sappy and half-hearted?
|| Posted on 2010-10-27 00:00:00 | by Mister Fizzle | [ Reply to This ] || "We were supposed to clasp withered hands,|
still see the youth in each other."
These lines, to me, are the cornerstones of the piece. I often find it refreshing when that happens because usually, I find the foundation in the end or at the beginning. But in this case, the stab-your-heart moment was at the center and it works well for the drama. It's like you're arguing with someone, you slap the other person and you show your remorse to the point of losing the ability to speak.
And before I babble any further...
|| Posted on 2010-10-25 00:00:00 | by ANGELO | [ Reply to This ] || This is one ofthose Mike Tyson pieces, it pulls you in subtly and then just when you think you get the hold of it it knocks you out.|
glad to see you still live, good to have you back!
|| Posted on 2010-10-25 00:00:00 | by Clayman | [ Reply to This ] |