Mommy brings me to this place,
Every Sunday we meet in this dimmed cafe
A simple coffee, with a loving smile
It's no different today than any other day,
But...
A man walks in, heavy down jacket
Confused.
Every one's looking...
It's mid-August, no time for winter
Then one small movement of his finger...
A flash of light.
Of fire, i feel it on my back
A siring pain shoots up my legs
I crumple into a bloodied mass of a ten year old boy
I look.
Glass, blood, torn flesh, metal, screams...
FEAR.
My mommy's gone... right here,
but gone.
More pain ruffles up my neck- like a slow anesthetic
Then nothing.
Blackness.
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I like the line breaks in your poem because it gives the piece a much more powerful tone
ReplyDeleteI loved your poem. It was so meaningful and made me feel extremely depressed! Good Job! It was extremely descriptive and full of feeling!
ReplyDeleteGreat poem. This is well written, your formatting is effective, and it's very descriptive. That said, you may want to consider tweaking your punctuation in some places to make it more cohesive. For example, the lines "A flash of light./Of fire, I feel..." might flow better if you switch the period and comma and rearrange line breaks (i.e. "A flash of light, of fire./I feel..."). But that's just the way I read it and feel free to ignore me. One other things: "A siring pain"? Siring is a word, but I don't think it's the one you meant and I'm not sure what you're trying to say there. Nonetheless, great poem.
ReplyDeleteGreat job on this poem. As I was reading down I pictured every scene. The vocabulary painted such an horrific scene in my mind. Along with the physical pain you can really feel the emotional pain with the girl.
ReplyDeleteThe enjambment is cool and I really liked the harsh reality you used. Your words were very blunt and everything he saw you weren't afraid to write. Scary, though.
ReplyDeleteErin, you received many valuable comments, so I won't repeat those things. I'd like to see more description of the cafe to ease me into the poem and build more visual imagery before it is all destroyed. Also, I am not sold on the title. My favorite part of the poem is the line "pain ruffles up my neck like a slow anesthetic." What a fantastic verb for this...ruffles...usually a positive connotation, but I get a gasping, choking feeling like a realization of a broken neck. Powerful.
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