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A broken house lies bleeding damned souls onto the street. The gutters overflow with filth where women fix bouquets. Lethargic contributions keep desperate hands from grabbing A dollar is nothing to a business man. It feeds urchins for a day. A man draped on a step looks dazedly at his hands he sees in them dry, roughened patches from work that once brought food. There’s a lack of presence in his sullen face. His cheeks touch to his teeth. His eyes reflect but do not penetrate anything on the outside world. But if you look deeper, there’s a lurking ponderance that veils his inner core. A confident soul in humble query; one you could not see before. |
It does flow a bit odd, Sophie. But it's still pretty good, I like the last two lines, the little couplet. >>A confident soul in humble query; one you could not see before.<< There's just something about it, I love it! I'm sure you won't look stupid. Good luck at your class! | Posted on 2005-06-28 00:00:00 | by painofthanatos | [ Reply to This ] | well it is ok, there are no spelling errors and to me the flow was a little chopy, i'd have to say in the beging it was a little confusing but then i read it again and it made a little more sense, there is a lot of imagery in this poem, like when you say" A broken house lies bleeding | damned souls onto the street." and I'd have to say that may favorite stanza would have to be "A man draped on a step looks dazedly at his hands he sees in them dry, roughened patches from work that once brought food." and i like this one so much because when i read it i could see the man sitting there and just looking at his hands. ~liz~ | Posted on 2005-06-26 00:00:00 | by Fadingperson | [ Reply to This ] | |