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| beatrice is hot 2006-11-24 ch 1, | abuseSo...what was the point of this poem? I mean, if it has no meaning. This is just a string of words meant to conjure up morbid images of...what? Cutting? Cruel love? The cold hand of destiny? The undead? What is it? I could critique this poem, if I wanted to. I could tell you that you shouldn't repeat "blood" so often, that repetition is only poignant if it enhances the point, which you admitted this poem lacks. I could tell you that fake sorrow doesn't make for touching poetry. But quite frankly, you didn't put much thought into writing this poem. Why should I put thought into reading it? |
| Frore 2006-11-24 ch 1, | abuseIt creeped you out, but it made me giggle. Tee hee. "We drown in the wine of devils, And our souls dance in the puddles." Fantastic line! Metaphorical! Keep writing. |