Ladies line the French harbor as night sets in,
Stokers purge the streets for the one,
Snatched and shoved and used,
Selling most everything for her little youth.
Fantine fears her fate,
Ten francs hit the table,
The men take her pride,
One man spares her soul,
She lay in bed at hospice,
Missing her young daughter,
She said her final goodbye.
Sep 20, 2022
Fantine (A Les Miserables poem.)
About This Poem
Last Few Words: This is just a poem I made suddenly, I don't quite expect it to be too well.
Review Request Direction:
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Review Request Intensity: I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft
Comments
I think I get it...
Is it about a prostitute that plies her trade along the waterfront? I'm not sure about how she winds up in a hospital; is it because of the one man that spares her soul? Does he give her a disease that puts her there or does he wound her to the extent of killing? She leaves a young daughter behind. Many questions emerge from this one. What is a stoker? I looked it up
but found only that it describes a man that shoveled coal into the furnace of the old steam ships. An intriguing story. ~ Geezer.
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