Love lost in an endless ryhme...

[Unique]

This is the first poem I ever wrote, my mother and I had a little disagreement; and now we don't speak to eachother... being 13 years of age im nearlly only fit to be called a novice; But I would still like to know how much potential I have by presenting this poem to you all.


You made a promise to me once, with affection and sweet care,
A promise stating that no matter what, you’d always, always, be there.
You’ve broken my heart, broken your promise, you told me a great lie,
A lie that I just took through big baby blue believing eyes.

I didn’t have a doubt I was young and I loved you so much,
That love so tender and soft as your once remembered touch.
I recall that moment when those lighthearted evil words pierced your lips,
Words bitter and cold and soulless, things I’ll never ever, forget.

Why did you do it, break my heart as you did?
I feel so confused; lonely, lost, in this big world still only a kid.
You said it would be alright, you said you’d protect me from everything wrong,
Everything evil in this world would be lost, and long gone.

At first everything was okay I was protected and sheathed by the good,
Enjoying my childhood, family, friends, the way that a normal kid should.
But temptation got to you; you made a wrong choice, you let the malevolence in,
That’s how it began simple enough you tossed away your heart and trusted him.

I came up to you later asking for a hug,
I backed off slowly seeing what sort of corruptness you had done.
You had partaken of liquor surrounded by smoke and smelled strongly of ash,
The nice kind mom I had grown to love was gone in a mere seconds, a flash.

I cried a tear so hard that night the angels gave me pity,
That pitted tear of which I sobbed the proof of how much you meant to me.
A child’s love a gift so dear being so great no amount of money could buy,
A gift so great for money you just as easily cast aside.

So I ask you now mom why did you do it? Break my heart as you did?
For as you see before you I am no longer a pony tailed kid.
But instead a fine young lady but with one mere question on her mind,
Mom why don’t you love me anymore? Love lost in an endless rhyme…

[Jester]

Unique

Firstly, considering your age, you undoubtedly have talent. When you've had time to be able to take a less traumatised look at the situation, you'll probably want to do a total re-write of this. It is very raw.......so raw that I could barely read it aloud without my voice faltering. If you read the "Handy Hints" that Cameron gives (at the top of the forum index), it would be nice to see some other subject matter emerging. IMHO poetry is a great escape as well as being entertaining to others - enjoy your new interest.

Mick.

[kozmikdave]

Gidday

This is more advanced than many of the 13 y.o.s I have taught. Well done.

It feels a bit like a rap in places - sort of speeds along rhythmically. I thought of Eminem while reading this.

I think your ideas will get more organised as you step outside the situation a bit. (Pity you can't sort it out though - my dad and I never really spoke for 25 years - I regret it terribly - started when I was your age.)

Keep up the writing
Cheers
Dave

[RobertFlorey]

This is the first poem I ever wrote, my mother and I had a little disagreement; and now we don't speak to eachother... being 13 years of age im nearlly only fit to be called a novice; But I would still like to know how much potential I have by presenting this poem to you all.


You made a promise to me once, with affection and sweet care,
A promise stating that no matter what, you’d always, always, be there.
You’ve broken my heart, broken your promise, you told me a great lie,
A lie that I just took through big baby blue believing eyes.

I didn’t have a doubt I was young and I loved you so much,
That love so tender and soft as your once remembered touch.
I recall that moment when those lighthearted evil words pierced your lips,
Words bitter and cold and soulless, things I’ll never ever, forget.

Why did you do it, break my heart as you did?
I feel so confused; lonely, lost, in this big world still only a kid.
You said it would be alright, you said you’d protect me from everything wrong,
Everything evil in this world would be lost, and long gone.

At first everything was okay I was protected and sheathed by the good,
Enjoying my childhood, family, friends, the way that a normal kid should.
But temptation got to you; you made a wrong choice, you let the malevolence in,
That’s how it began simple enough you tossed away your heart and trusted him.

I came up to you later asking for a hug,
I backed off slowly seeing what sort of corruptness you had done.
You had partaken of liquor surrounded by smoke and smelled strongly of ash,
The nice kind mom I had grown to love was gone in a mere seconds, a flash.

I cried a tear so hard that night the angels gave me pity,
That pitted tear of which I sobbed the proof of how much you meant to me.
A child’s love a gift so dear being so great no amount of money could buy,
A gift so great for money you just as easily cast aside.

So I ask you now mom why did you do it? Break my heart as you did?
For as you see before you I am no longer a pony tailed kid.
But instead a fine young lady but with one mere question on her mind,
Mom why don’t you love me anymore? Love lost in an endless rhyme…

You should write lots more. You should post what you write
on various poetry sites, including this one of course. If you get
reviews that are unkind, don't be hurt by them. They're written
by people who don't know their elbow from a teakettle.

You do have potential. You do have talent. It's impossible to say
how much of either, because this is your first poem.

So, read as much as you can on poetry. Learn some 'rules'. Learn
some named forms, like sonnets and sestets, and write your own.

The 'rules' are there to show you what tools you can put into
your kit. And you should use them in order to see how they work,
the same as any tool.

But just as a painter may put down a brush, and use a palette
knife, or a finger, or a fork, to paint with, those rules are made
to be broken once you start to know what you're doing.

There is no single, universal definition for what a poem is, either.
Just write, write, write.

Write descriptions of places you been, things you've done. Write
about things that never happened at all.

I don't know if this poem is really about you or not, and I don't
care.

It's written in first person, and it's an agony poem. Agony poems
are very difficult to do well, because they put a strain on the
reader, who may feel very badly about the situation in the poem,
and worse because there is absolutely nothing they can do about it.

So, you should try writing this one second or third person.
And you should, as much as possible, show rather than tell.
Make it like scenes in a movie -- show the inside feelings by
describing what is going on. Give details about the scene
so it makes an image in the mind. Give us colors, and textures,
and sounds, and shapes, and distances, and all of the other
things that will put us at the scene and make us have our own
feelings, rather than you telling us about your character's feelings.

In this poem, you have either given us just a tiny bit of a reason
for all this emotion. Mom drank and smoked. All of a sudden.
You found out only because you walked up to her.

Well, that's not enough to call her the kind of things you call her.
You mention a guy. But who is he and what makes him
malevolent? Did he rape you? Did he beat you? Did she join in,
or was her failure that she did nothing to stop it?

We don't really know what's going on here, and this is no
metaphorcal poem, this is a straight out narrative, a story,
and you're hideing the most important parts of it.

I can understand that if this really happened to you and your
mother, but then this isn't a proper subject. You need to keep
distance from it, if you're going to write about it. The passion
on a poem of this kind should not be apparent in the poem, but
the words you choose, the scenes you bring alive to us in
images, in sensory words, are what will cause us to raise
passions in our own hearts.

This, to make it clear, is not a critique of your poem, which is quite
good for your age and inexperience in writing poems. You get at
least an 'A' for that.

It's just some advice that you should keep working on your poetry,
but also be learning along the way how you can get in control
of your poetry rather than having your poetry in control of you.

Nice job!