Dragged

[Flak]

What they said of life...
A straight path of no regrets?

The path is long and crooked
Windy and bumpy
Full of jagged rocks
Slicing the soles of my feet
Full of jokers
Selling their souls to deceive me
Full of walls
Barriers too high for me to breach
Full of predators
Ready to rip my throat with their teeth
Full of carrion-birds
Waiting for a chance to swoop on my carcass
Full of mouths
Moving to gossip and laugh of my death
Full of minds
Working to remember my fated demise
Full of spirits
Gleefully appointed to bask in those memories

Full of the dead.
Full of those like me
Life wasn't fun, a skyrocket of vivid color and ecstatic emotion
As they had told me it would be
Life is merely ridden with death
Everywhere, death, the dead, the death-eaters
And I am but one soul
Forcefully dragged
Into this mixing bowl of terror.

[Bullroarer]

Vivid use of dark metaphor, I honestly felt like being dragged into a pit while thrashing around, but you need to express things more clearly a poets. Add adjectives and adverbs to chisel your granite into a sculpture. Be more involved in your poem and try to expand your range of feeling. You have promising potential.

[Flak]

Thanks for the post-for-post replies, Bullroarer. It means a lot.

Maybe one thing I should mention is that I rarely refine my poems. Any roughness or imperfection is just an aspect of them. I write them, a flood of them (all five here were written in one night) and leave them be. Often thhe words just flow out. I'm no poet. I just...let my emotions flow out.


And now, these poems are old memories.