Kiora_childofthemoon
This poem was meant for a story that I had started, called Nights Rain. I really like the whole story behind the poem.
Raindrops falling Blah. This line is just bland. Self-evident. Y'know?
Don't know where am going Again, blah.
Just taking my time Give me something to sink my teeth into! this is just clouds and fluff. I like my poetry nutritious.
To see where winds end This line just doesn't make sense, logically or gramatically.
Dark raindrops, pouring Ah, well, dark raindrops. You awe me with your descriptions. C'mon! Dark is nothing. Meaningless.
You can hear it in the morning
Crystal clear moon's eyes Ew! Such a cliched line! And you even pulled the moon into it? I mean Jesus, you might as well beat your poem senseless and leave it in the ghetto.
Tell me where my future lies You're just telling us what you want to say. Don't do that. That leaves nothing to the imagination! Illustrate! Show! Paint, for christ's sake!
Walking a closed path This doesn't really do anything for me either. It's just so... abstract.
The moonlight glitters
Black butterfly flutters
Black teardrops fall out
her internal flame put out
But yet their is no one to blame but the
rose.These last lines physically hurt me. It's like you took all the cliches possible, and just shoved them together, then stirred, placed random words between them, and called them oatmeal raisin cookies. Now, I ******** like oatmeal raisin cookies, and these are not oatmeal raisin cookies.
Raindrops falling Blah. This line is just bland. Self-evident. Y'know?
Don't know where am going Again, blah.
Just taking my time Give me something to sink my teeth into! this is just clouds and fluff. I like my poetry nutritious.
To see where winds end This line just doesn't make sense, logically or gramatically.
Dark raindrops, pouring Ah, well, dark raindrops. You awe me with your descriptions. C'mon! Dark is nothing. Meaningless.
You can hear it in the morning
Crystal clear moon's eyes Ew! Such a cliched line! And you even pulled the moon into it? I mean Jesus, you might as well beat your poem senseless and leave it in the ghetto.
Tell me where my future lies You're just telling us what you want to say. Don't do that. That leaves nothing to the imagination! Illustrate! Show! Paint, for christ's sake!
Walking a closed path This doesn't really do anything for me either. It's just so... abstract.
The moonlight glitters
Black butterfly flutters
Black teardrops fall out
her internal flame put out
But yet their is no one to blame but the
rose.These last lines physically hurt me. It's like you took all the cliches possible, and just shoved them together, then stirred, placed random words between them, and called them oatmeal raisin cookies. Now, I ******** like oatmeal raisin cookies, and these are not oatmeal raisin cookies.
