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I think it sucks...


winkybear

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The withered rose

 

A withered rose my heart shall be,

With the thorns but without the beauty,

The red blooming colour once my life,

What is left; a shameful sight.

 

What seemed afar seemed so near,

She was standing there everything was clear,

The weather turned dark as she came close,

Oh what fate, but I am the withered rose.

 

The withered rose I want it to die!

To have the colour of red once again occupy,

Id rather make this painful sacrifice,

Than becoming a sore to the eyes.

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i read / wrote my fair share of poetry and honestly think you have a talent for it.

 

One line really bugged the crap out of me though.

 

The weather turned dark as she came close.

 

this sentence is begging for the word "close" to be replaced with "nearer", but then the "near" at the top of the paragraph would have to be replaced with close... so i see how its a problem.

 

Either way great poem, you're just being too self critical... the imagry is great.

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