Poetry / Untitled
No war on our soil
in sooo damn long
aren’t we lucky aren’t we proud!
While we sing the song our
grandfather taught us that sweet lulllaby
“America The Beautiful”
While the boogie man is behind the bedroom
door,waiting for the rising sun.
Can’t we just keep our sunglasses on?
Like children we keep hiding our faces
from the truth.
You cant hear the pounding of their feet
while plugging your ears.
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Topic is relevant and word choice is sturdy. There are a few gramatical issues (which don’t really bother me) that should be cleaned up. You’ve got a lot of criteria to be rated on for such a short piece – maybe you could tone that down a bit? The last line is great!
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i like it, i think people generally live in a bubble.
now as far as getting this published, you should try. i’m not a professional but it sounds like something you’d read in some literary magazine.
Hey,
I’m not very sure that I enjoyed it or not. It was a little confusing for me and I don’t quite understand the spacing for it. But, then again, I’m not t he best at interpreting poetry. Hope that I helped just a little bit!
Dustin
My two main concerns about this poem are its line breaks which are awkward: our/grandfather, bedroom/door to name two that really shouldn’t be on two lines. Then the vagueness of the subject matter especially towards the end of the poem. Who is the boogeyman you refer to and why does he hide and wait behind the bedroom door waiting for the sun to rise? What does that mean or refer to? What specific truth are whe hiding from? It leaves too much open for conjecture IMHO. The pounding of whose feet? I would try to be more specific to get your point across.
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