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Penned_In_White's profile
AGE:
17
LOC: Parker, CO
GEN: Female
LAST LOGIN: January 13
LOC: Parker, CO
GEN: Female
LAST LOGIN: January 13
My names Kelly, I’m a freshman in highschool and I love to write.
I’ve been writing poetry seriously for the past year or two, and prior to this I would write occasionally.
I will probably be posting all of my poetry on here at some point, regardless of its quality, so be wary. I do not always like my end result.
In the past I have asked semi-experienced friends to help me review and edit my work but I’ve found that it isn’t quite as helpful as I would like.
I usually don’t like sharing my work, it makes me feel uncomfortable because the other person usually feels obligated to tell you that they like it. That’s why I like the annonymity of this.
If you don’t like my work, tell me. I can rewrite or just hit delete.
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I faced it cold and loud- With allergy eyes. I walked without dropping my change, Skipping over the empty cups; I claimed as much anyways, Even as I scrambled up my $1.65. $1.55-a bum stole my dime.
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You are fluorescent lights and 40 cents. The feeling of animal prints-- Snobby feline gone-- I’m glad, I’m glad. I’m not at all. Reunite the Guillotines! We all await.
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And there she sits I don’t think you can wait, anymore. She’s been there For quite some time, Just watching you Pondering your change Your ability of purity How it doesn’t matter That you speak a deafened whisper Not to you, anyways. Sit with her In a coat of blackened night Eyelids dark as thoughts She wont see your tattered jeans Not bought that way, of course, For anything more than time And that’s what she’s striving for. Now, learn to wonder How she is again.
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Tell me not to be that girl before forgiveness becomes bland, again and olive branches lose their luster I need to know I can't. Tell me not to be that girl before the cookies come back, again and the mirrors antagonize my work I need to know I can't Tell me not to be that girl before his words bring me back, again and his speech, verbatim, rings through the empty ballroom I need to know I can't Tell me not to be that girl before he brings me up, again And I realize it could be worth it I nee...
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Let's get by the clichéd lies Of blonde hair and blue eyes. I enjoy my mousy fringe, My eyes dark like night, Hollow to most; I hide behind it I suppose. For lack of roses left on my doorstep, I rely on the important things as my mother would say. My waistline, far from a 2, defines me. I won't laugh, carefree into the wind not when he's watching anyways. I won't flirt, endlessly with another girl's boy I don't have it in me. my lack of stereotype tags me: just a friend.
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I quite enjoyed the piece! Are you writing from experience? Even if not, I think you captured the entire essence of not realizing one's differences until they're noticed in another's eye. It would almost be more interesting if you wrote this soley from the perspective of a black person, if you yourself were another race. Props :)
I adore this piece. I love that you put a sexual setting into the reader's mind with the first bit, leaving us shocked with "Grabbing her - he slams her down hard!" I was envisioning rape or something! The last line is exactly what it should be, no long explanation needed.
I think I like the last stanza the best but I feel like if you elongated your phrases or if you made it even blunter, you could create a stronger impact.
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I like that it's like an actual train of thought, random as all heck and the use of "..."s helped focus in on that. Your word choice seems perfect, I like your allusion to The Wizard of Oz, it seemed totally fitting to your piece. Overall, good job I have no changes.
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