galadra
12-09-06, 10:39 AM
not gonna lie, i don't write good poetry, so if you don't like, post whatever criticisms you want of it. i really won't be offended :P
it has a rather odd rhythm to it, so if you miss it, i know, i know. and i employ that circly end of line thing in my poetry a lot, so just because it's on it's own line, doesn't mean that i'm trying to emphasize it.
have at ^__^
i wrote a world, and the world wrote me.
i became a song, and the song became me.
and in my world this song
you sang
became
a tiny part
of the reason
i made the world this way.
and on the world that i wrote,
which i became and overtook,
the people here have
grown their roots
deep in the soil
and sprouted
up
reaching
only for what they cannot.
they reach for what they cannot,
you know,
for things to have and
things to do.
for in this world, this tiny world,
this world that i've become,
i try, but i cannot.
and this song that i became,
which became myself as well,
the very song which you also sang,
danced within the reaching grasps
for all
and
all to see.
it was a wondrous thing
to see you
just playing with the trees.
it made them laugh
and it made me cry,
and no matter what was happening,
you just kept on
dancing.
i wrote a world, and the world wrote me.
i became a song, and the song became me.
and in my world this song
we sang
became the reason
i made the world this way.
it has a rather odd rhythm to it, so if you miss it, i know, i know. and i employ that circly end of line thing in my poetry a lot, so just because it's on it's own line, doesn't mean that i'm trying to emphasize it.
have at ^__^
i wrote a world, and the world wrote me.
i became a song, and the song became me.
and in my world this song
you sang
became
a tiny part
of the reason
i made the world this way.
and on the world that i wrote,
which i became and overtook,
the people here have
grown their roots
deep in the soil
and sprouted
up
reaching
only for what they cannot.
they reach for what they cannot,
you know,
for things to have and
things to do.
for in this world, this tiny world,
this world that i've become,
i try, but i cannot.
and this song that i became,
which became myself as well,
the very song which you also sang,
danced within the reaching grasps
for all
and
all to see.
it was a wondrous thing
to see you
just playing with the trees.
it made them laugh
and it made me cry,
and no matter what was happening,
you just kept on
dancing.
i wrote a world, and the world wrote me.
i became a song, and the song became me.
and in my world this song
we sang
became the reason
i made the world this way.