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I'm working on becoming a writer one day. I was wondering if you guys wouldn't mind giving me a little feedback on my poetry. Here's one of the one's I enjoy sharing the most. Is it hard to follow? Do you have an idea of what the metaphors are relating to? Well, enjoy. :)
Also! If you have any poetry you'd like to share, please do.
~Riddle~
Reduced to a sickening afterthought.
Hollow eyed flesh prisoners traipse along, staring right through me.
Anger seeps out of dirt covered pores.
An aimless search for greater and greater nothings.
Outstretched hands grasp air, falling short of something tangible.
Unforgiven misunderstandings.
Blood runs thin; water that cannot quench.
The dry tongue wags: a raspy plea for help.
Pictures that look serene from a distance become stained by surreal illusion.
Kindness is buried beneath a toothless grin.
Beauty is a rotting tree, bored out by insatiable weevils.
A grime stench pumps through hollow veins, bleeding indignity.
Looking back guarantees the next fall.
Face first over good intentions and stifled progress.
Expectations create traitors.
Unwanted ones beg for understanding but receive no answers.
Become scarce, broken puppet!
Your limp limbs deny you life, though your severed strings offer freedom.
Are you not satisfied?
Comfort rests in manufactured lies.
Love is the riddle to a solution.
Also! If you have any poetry you'd like to share, please do.
~Riddle~
Reduced to a sickening afterthought.
Hollow eyed flesh prisoners traipse along, staring right through me.
Anger seeps out of dirt covered pores.
An aimless search for greater and greater nothings.
Outstretched hands grasp air, falling short of something tangible.
Unforgiven misunderstandings.
Blood runs thin; water that cannot quench.
The dry tongue wags: a raspy plea for help.
Pictures that look serene from a distance become stained by surreal illusion.
Kindness is buried beneath a toothless grin.
Beauty is a rotting tree, bored out by insatiable weevils.
A grime stench pumps through hollow veins, bleeding indignity.
Looking back guarantees the next fall.
Face first over good intentions and stifled progress.
Expectations create traitors.
Unwanted ones beg for understanding but receive no answers.
Become scarce, broken puppet!
Your limp limbs deny you life, though your severed strings offer freedom.
Are you not satisfied?
Comfort rests in manufactured lies.
Love is the riddle to a solution.
Quote
Become scarce, broken puppet. Your limp limbs have denied you life, though your severed strings offer freedom. Are you not satisfied?
Wow, the imagery is really intense! I really like the last four lines (and all the others too!). Got any other poems to post?
. . . you just ate a roadroller.
Yes... and?
It was my roadroller.
Again... yes... and?
I liked that roadroller.
... Get to your point
YOU ATE MY ROADROLLER.
Wow, I think I have goosebumps 
that was amazing
If it wan't for the last few lines, that sounded like a description of the future
that was amazing
If it wan't for the last few lines, that sounded like a description of the future
it seems like corpses, zombies, or maybe vampires
`Archais wrote:I'm working on becoming a writer one day. I was wondering if you guys wouldn't mind giving me a little feedback on my poetry. Here's one of the one's I enjoy sharing the most. Is it hard to follow? Do you have an idea of what the metaphors are relating to? Well, enjoy. :)
Also! If you have any poetry you'd like to share, please do.
~Riddle~
Reduced to a sickening afterthought.
Hollow eyed flesh prisoners traipse along, staring right through me.
Anger seeps out of dirt covered pores.
An aimless search for greater and greater nothings.
Outstretched hands grasp air, falling short of something tangible.
Unforgiven misunderstandings.
Blood runs thin; water that cannot quench.
The dry tongue wags: a raspy plea for help.
Pictures that look serene from a distance become stained by surreal illusion.
Kindness is buried beneath a toothless grin.
Beauty is a rotting tree, bored out by insatiable weevils.
A grime stench pumps through hollow veins, bleeding indignity.
Looking back guarantees the next fall.
Face first over good intentions and stifled progress.
Expectations create traitors.
Unwanted ones beg for understanding but receive no answers.
Become scarce, broken puppet!
Your limp limbs deny you life, though your severed strings offer freedom.
Are you not satisfied?
Comfort rests in manufactured lies.
Love is the riddle to a solution.
I'm really high so I cant read right now
