It Grows as She Dies |
unknown
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It ate her away from within,
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and every comforting word
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was a slap in her face.
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She knew the fault in her gene,
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the flaw that broke and killed
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every precious thing.
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If she sometimes cried in the night,
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the tears weren't for herself,
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but for those who still had hope.
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23 Feb 07 |
Rated 9 (9) by 4 users.
Active (4): 8, 9, 9, 10
Inactive (0):
(define the words in this poem)
(3 users consider this poem a favorite)
quelyn
themorrigan
WildSymphony
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Comments:
Sad! We're all victims of genetics and it's coming to get us, you said this so very well.
— Isabelle5
Should gene be genes? Just wondering. Does anyone know the exact gene that does the trick?
— Isabelle5
Amazing. Thank you for sharing it.
— themorrigan
Thank both of you very much. It took a lot to write this.
— unknown
I'm sorry if this is true. So sorry.
— Isabelle5
I don't get it what is it about?
— unknown
This is so sad and beautiful. I am teary as I read it. What courage it must have taken to write. Q
— quelyn
Seriously, is this a poetry workshop or just a mutual admiration society where no one actually critiques anything? Yes, what is written here is sad - but isn't a workshop supposed to critique the POEM - just because someone has suggestions to make the poem better doesn't mean they are insulting the poet for god's sake! The comments I am reading here on this "workshop" forum borders on the ridiculous. I thought if I kept lurking around there might be some merit here, I find none. Wouldn't post one of my poems here - I actually want critique.
— unknown
What's the purpose of your comment, unknown? If you think people should be giving better critiques, get a user name and start giving good critiques. Right now, you're just another person giving useless comments. The only difference is that you have a snotty, holier-than-thou attitude that nobody measures up to your standard.
— unknown
Thank, all above (even you unknowns)...
— unknown
who died?
— unknown
Henry died.
— unknown
weird...
— unknown
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