Description: this was completly fictional although it may stem from my love of runway modles not sure anyway let me hear what yah think
A fiery red head with a seriousness to her dark brown eyes.
Sometimes when the sun hits its just right it sets her hair aflame.
She sometimes spends the afternoon on her bedroom floor.
She cuts pictures from various magazines.
She’s in love with the exposed collarbones the fragile facial features
Theirs beauty in the way the skin is pulled tightly over an emaciated frame.
Some will find there ways to her walls replacing older ones that have peeled or fallen.
Others will cover the reflective surfaces of her domain.
Honestly, I didnt like this poem. But that may be because Im not that much into models. But coming from someone who isnt into that subject, the poem didnt really have meaning to me. It sort of left me feeling like why did you write this. What we're you hoping to get out of this. Crucial questions that your reader may have about this poem. Dont take this as me knocking you, it's just my opinion
I read this poem listening to a song called Girl, by Beck. For some reason, as I read it quickly, it sounded pretty awesome. However, upon reading it a second time, I felt like was a little syllable heavy. I don't know. It was pretty good.
Ohh, this is a good poem. I am puzzled by people who comment on poems that aren't to their liking, especially when it is about the content of the poem. Any way, I am especially enamored with the end. 'Some will find there ways to her walls replacing older ones that have peeled or fallen. Others will cover the reflective surfaces of her domain.' I like that it eludes to what may become of those women of beauty. The sadness that echoes from those 2 lines is astounding. Cara