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By Rattle_Spear
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11 October 2005 |
From Plymouth Devon UK to Johannesburg SA in one Century. Africa is mine
Not by choice
By the seed of my father
I had no knowledge
Nor any say
He took out his anger and did it anyway
I was plied that very same day
That's when my mother was eager to play
She accepted the greed
Soon for me to grow in her heart
In the lonely darkness, I was confused
Was this life or was I being used?
I floated around without any sun
For nine long months, I had no fun
Then it happened in a flash
Into the arms of the midwife
Freedom at long last
Into brightness and away from my past!
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Written by amboline (183 comments posted) 11th November 2005 | | I can't really comment on the content, as this is obviously an autobiographical piece. My only comment on the style is that this is quite a serious and potentially fairly hard-hitting poem, and I think the use of rhyme actually weakens it. Have you tried this in a free verse form? It might give you a little freedom to find some richer descriptive words, without being constrained by the need to make things rhyme. | Writing Poetry
Written by Rattle_Spear (93 comments posted) 12th November 2005 | Amboline
To me poetry flows from the mind to the quill, when writing it. I accept your comments, but….. On the other hand if the poem came out too “Hard without rhyme” I could be regarded as cynical or even angry to mention only a few emotions. One must bear in mind that I write as a hobby and not as a professional. Therefore, I chose to “go with the flow.”
Kindly post some of your work for review.
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