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Bitternut like a pignut from a shell; you picked me clean. stabbing at hope, scraping all prospect from my heart. crumpled trust and tidbits of truth falling; tiny pieces of insignificance scattered - like so many dashed dreams devoured, vacated; nothing left to glean my soul lays - cracked open, hulled and left to turn to dust on the cold hard floor of your mind . |
This Poem was Critiqued By: Ellen K Lewis On Date: 2012-10-04 23:18:33
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Hi Mary! I came to this piece wondering what Id find inside. The title pulled me in, and then I realize it doesnt really 'say' anything....it just calls...
Your first verse is really good. Thats a great discription.
devoured, vacated;
nothing left to glean <<<<you need more here! also, gleen feels tight. It goes well with the rest of everything and it ties in good but it just didnt roll like the rest does. It sort of sticks to my tongue...lol I think there lies within you enough emotion to add 2 more lines, just to make it even.
my soul lays -
cracked open, hulled
and left to turn to dust
on the cold hard floor of your mind <<<< I love this ending! Its tough and true. I was thinking the 'cold steel door of your mind would work well too.
Im pretty sure Ive felt this way before. Boo. You did a great job of putting it into words. This is a subject that is sometimes very hard to express and you did it well!