Poetry / Taken for granted
Taken for granted
It’s been about an hour,
You are still in the bathroom.
Haven’t you heard? I am dying.
The rose colored glasses that you choose to wear are darker than ever.
I could have died last evening.
What would be your excuse next?
Life is short, I know, but there is no room to make excuses.
If I want to put two questions, I will.
You openly put on a front, but I see straight through like a prism sees light.
The Aids foundation is looking for you.
A man, a woman, and a child are searching for you.
Time is taken for granted.
Your lifeless eyes speak, but I see what you want to say.
My life is a beautiful one.
It’s about an hour,
You are still in the bathroom.
Haven’t you heard? I am dying.
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I think as a poet you are very skilled. Your words present dilemas and problems and conflict and everything else that grabs a reader. They’re simple, but important and you have real potential. I must admit, however, that I don’t really know what the poem is about. Perhaps you weren’t going for a meaning, but I felt like there should have been one, indeed, I think there is, but I just can’t peice it together, the Aids foundation, the dying, who’s in the bathroom, who’s making excuses. So I guess my only criticism is with the story which is either too veiled to decipher or which perhaps doesn’t exist.
-Cheers
P.S. I also run a website called WritersCafe.org which offers aspiring writers all the resources they need to break into the publishing world. If you’re interested, we’d definitley love to have you sign up and post some of your stories or poems. Anyway, check it out if you like, and best of luck in your writing.
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