spring: this is what people call
the flu season, the bug season,
the fly season, but why cant it
just be spring? why cant it be the
'let go' season?
I need a season where I can stop
pretending. stop being someone
that I'm not. stop and ask myself why?
why am I here? am I here because of a big bang?
a creation of god? a product of my parents? or
is it because I didn't do something stupid when I
had no cons and just pro's to what I was doing.
instead I put down the weapon and said that
I was going to make my life worth something one
day.
that moment happened in what they call
Christmas season, Hanukkah season, but
what I call don't do it season. I was sure
to learn a lesson from that so that it wouldn't be
worth nothing. that lesson is to show what
the seasons truly are..
Comments
ya. its short and not that
ya. its short and not that good. sorry
Hello Scooby,
Welcome to Neopet.
I like your title, it catches interest.
Your language use lacks prosody. I find little in the way of meter, cadence, or flow.
I do like the theme, and the locale of the event. Christmas can be a very bitter, lonely time for millions of us, and even in the lack of anything poetic, these emotions, and hope, come through strong.
The beginning is a little weak, but you have a strong ending.
Is the internal logic consistent? Yes it is, once one looks beyond the poem's limitations to its meaning.
Here. I don't normally do this, but I truly do believe that this has much potential;
This is what they call flu season?
Bug season, fly season?
I wish it could be 'let go' season
Or even better, spring,
a time when I can stop pretending,
stop being someone I am not,
just stop,
and ask myself why?
why am I here?
am I a big bang creation of god,
or just a product of my parents?
I didn't do something stupid
when I had no cons,
just pro's to what I was doing:
Instead, I put down the weapon
and told myself
I would make my life
worth something, one day.
That was Christmas, Hanukkah,
But I call it 'don't do it season', now.
For I learned a lesson then,
Enough to make my life
Worth living,
And show me what
The seasons truly are.
Given some time and thought, this little piece of self-examination will become something really good. It already has power, for those who sift through it, and thus has great potential, so please, try writing it again, I would love to see where you take it.
Yes, it is not that good.
But it can be.
Hello Scooby
New faces are always welcome and I think you will find a friendly home here for budding poets of all types. I for instance, am a rhymer. What do I call Spring? The wow season. Everything is bright, new and fresh. I asked some of those questions myself as a teenager (I am now 65) but there were no answers then and I don't think you will find them now.
Take my coward's hand
the hero sadly said,
life is for the living
leave worry to the dead.