You touched a good depth here, very cool. I liked your metaphors and how smoothly you placed them, I could take it all in very easily and enjoy it.

I'd also liked to say that I can relate to the feelings you wrote down(surprisingly), so I give ya credit for that. Though you gotta pardon me for being a prick, but you got alotta grammar errors, but you proably just missed them.

Whoa, I really enjoyed that, but the only thing is...

the "Places without those whores and asses" line bothered me. It was powerful and a very sudden, Bright Eyes thing to do (they tend to stick very coarse words in the middle of poetry) but if it were me I would not put it there, but that is my style and not yours. In terms of what you seem to be trying to do, it worked alright and moved on from there. It did not seriously detract from the poem and it certainly got my attention, so there's the other side of it...

On another bright side, I don't know if I've ever read a poem that represented school better!

Wow, how poetic. Nice composition you've got there. Sad that I don't have any talent at this field. Thanx for copmmenting on my works, that was nice.

wow i really love this, totaly bright eyes inspired

Wonderful and dreamy though the "whores and asses" line was like a sudden punch in the face. The second half of stanza 3 was wonderful though, it kinda builds up there. + I absolutely love Bright Eyes and Conor Oberst is so hot! But anyway, the rhyme in stanza two is nice though I always think that like 'thing' is one of those 'dead words' that aren't good, even though I don't follow that rule myself anyway. + Thx for the review cuz like no one else has reviewed that one even though it's like not the worst though "the shirt" got 4 reviews in like 20 minutes. Oh, I'm rambling now Well, if you ever need a review just review me(cuz I always get back, eventually.) +

On my back, seven nights, dreaming Wide awake of a trillion voices On a trillion different stars, Ibegin to think of something my mother said:

Whenever you feel sorry or wish To be away...

Last morning before the sun grewLike a raindrop accumulating itself On glass, I remembered the story mySister told:

The little boy in one day grew veryOld and started...

In the evening while reading in a Stream of blissful sunlight, I Began to recollect the wistful Tone secret in those voices:

Never let me go, never let yourself Diminish, and embody all your dreams.

Never let me go, always try to seemAs if the sky will tint itselfForever, in secret courtesy, to every Blessed soul who dreams for others.

If that formats right it'll be a spare poem I haven't posted yet. So like read :) Anywho(I'm not going for longest review.) Bye bye. :)