Critical Analysis #2 |
1`8 and high |
18 Junior Member
since 2007-03-28
Posts 25 |
18 and High He don’t come home anymore Impaired by more than the drugs he’s on Sure of where he’ll go; far from All-American, somewhere in a song, or close to a hole Its all his own and done Connection gone with closing doors Roots have grown to be torn from a place called home Selfishly you snatch at dirt and unearth to displace you from your own Fist orphaned of a worldly conception hit the sky looking for more Slipped between a tight fingers grip horrified he dropped a dream Now he’s a dreams deception shy Fallen feet fell in step on to broken floors looking to fly A crypt kept remembrance of a man that didn’t die Blind and unspoken yet relentless he slept in his eyes Your head harbors judgments of mothers and fathers in constant despise of what you are no longer He’s spent long nights listening leaving him restless Gasping for meaning left him breathless He’s now on the run Regret the ghost he has become even more so that he was a son All that meant was abandonment A father had a son he didn’t want Written on pages so to be read like paper cuts to flaunt was a love never got Bleeding heart plea that a mother stopped caring Thoughts that live between dusk and dawn chase the days denying the sun So this is the life he chose, of broken bottles and buddies Sorrows rolled in a cigarette smolder to ash and fill the tray of aftermath in which you’re living in Smoking impotence, breathing in deep and exhale with the grievance of a so called death as if the boy of whom you speak is past tense in lyrics He sits ready to spill his guilt and guts Never sang enough He never had enough Waiting for somebody to listen Mistrust twists tongue to say wicked wrongs Conscience hastens upon a song lush taste of disgust He strums pity in strings delicate touch He sings that he’s been forgot 18 and high the world was not but had an eye to help destruct Life he wants denied so swore to drown in this denial Teen angst brought pieces of his world down Now nothing of the child he’s been Magnificent he was filled with dreams Body he was born with Wrote poems and sonnets with colors of sunbeams Skin naked posed upon this planet as though canvas for purity Stained by reality He played a destiny to be great Notes over played told a fate wrote in smoke Closed the pain now seeing engraves written in stone Home comes slow in what he sings And he sang “This is my soul Singing it all through the heart beat touched Rhythm pushed blood into my veins and lungs So I could breathe and take in breathe Exhaled to sing and God let me sing this Cuz I been lost” Synonyms for regret and sorrow continue in friends Harlots for depression and so are now depressed Fingers placed upon frets felt what they meant Loves reprise lift wet red clouds from blood shot eyes Conscience choked red skies now clear to white Down the neck he strokes a joy for life Renewed chest rose with passion and fell in exertion A boy found purpose in hearts he’s broken A meaning for a first to virgin words carried on stuttered verses Shrouds of dry worthlessness pulled down in curtains Melted walls collapsed and crumbled Before devils steps forth a man from puddles of helter skelter Cut the rope severed from around your soul Untold restore that boy never felt there or here or anywhere |
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© Copyright 2007 18 - All Rights Reserved | |||
TyroStar Junior Member
since 2007-01-31
Posts 38 |
"He don’t come home anymore" This first line made me not want to read any further. He doesn't would be the correct wording here. To see this as the first line of a poem immediately makes me think the writer is uneducated. Which obviously takes away my interest, especially in such a long piece. Also, separating this into stanzas would help make this easier, and more enjoyable to read. Oh, and the title also made me not want to even open it. |
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18 Junior Member
since 2007-03-28
Posts 25 |
18 and high is the mind state of this boy ok and poetry can be whatever the writer makes it. stanzas are useful ill revise and fix k thaNKS |
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Brad Member Ascendant
since 1999-08-20
Posts 5705Jejudo, South Korea |
True, the writer can do whatever he or she wants, but the reader can like or dislike, read or not read as they so choose. You attempt a voice of a 'high' 18 year old but you write it in the third person? |
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TyroStar Junior Member
since 2007-01-31
Posts 38 |
I did read the whole thing, actually. Just so it's known i'm not critiquing without any basis. Sure, poetry is what the writer wishes, but if you don't want critiques on your work, perhaps you shouldn't be posting in Critical Analysis? The point of this board is to post, accept criticism, and try to make your work better. |
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18 Junior Member
since 2007-03-28
Posts 25 |
oh i want criticism but im going to have a response to it. i dchanged some stuff and on thursday night i won a poetry slam with this one whatev. i wrote it in this style to give it more feeling when i recited it |
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