United States

ᴅᴀʀᴋ ᴄʜᴏᴄᴏʟᴀᴛᴇ
ᴛɪʟ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴍᴇ ɪɴ ᴅᴀɪꜱɪᴇꜱ, ᴅᴀɪꜱɪᴇꜱ, ᴅᴀɪꜱɪᴇꜱ

Message to Readers

Nothing but criticism
In copious measures
Reviews, all in all
Would be treasured

Make my poem better
Leave the name in the comments so
I'll review your piece too
As in Latin they say quid pro quo

staccato dewdrops

April 28, 2021

i mean maybe, only maybe, it would be possible to not consider at all the things i loved:
    the white winds of Northern America (may they always stay in the minds of those blessed) but also
    the green fields of California.
let the sun bear down upon the hot barren lands of Texas, (no desserts are sweeter than the desert itself after all) but i was sufficiently calmed, after arriving. the elegant oaks of my forest home made it so after all.

           so sweet, be the sonata that autumn sings, but its lowest, darkest waters remind me sometimes of my friends;
                alas this loneliness can never be cured by the whispered words of winter or the shallow streams of spring; maybe the salient tree in a forest, or the quietest epiphany of monsoon;
                    the rain falls like monsoon's diamond tears, sprinkling every canopy with silver melodies and the soft pitter-patter of its quiet strings. perhaps the violin of my past has been thrashing its frame against who i am today, telling me it's still not enough;

                    -ah the dynamic of nature; the way the world gets painted with frivolous allegros of leaves in the wind, the silvery moderatos of a rushing stream; andante, the stride of falling snow, and my dearest darling, maybe the subject of the favoritism i have preached; staccato, the tippety tap of falling rain that thunders on our windowsills and curses at our doors.
    staccato slides down rose petals, like it would like to do nothing more than gaze into the rose's exquisite beauty, and that is why it has been ordered to leave thy petals alone, in fear that it will stay there forever staring into the rose's eyes, petals, flowery perfection;     yet my precious staccato only taps at the ceiling, taps at every roof making it known that it is there. terrifying, but also beautiful, and the loveliest dynamic to ever be known; what a beautiful word        staccato.
oh my dear punctuation what have i done to you scarred your perfect back tore your golden hair 
    i apologize maybe it looks good for aesthetic effect but i assure you the damage was mutual i broke my heart as well
                now let me save myself and return you to my heart let you stay there for eternity and rest and heal-
                                                                             again, i apologize.

And for my dear readers...
Thank you so much to Avril for reviewing- that was insanely helpful and amazing!
Inimitable- your review helped so much on brushing up the little things; I can't tell you how much better the poem has become because of you and Avril!
Thanks to all the people who commented on the earlier version; hope this one's even better!

Also PLEASE REVIEW! I WANT CRITICISM! I will review any one of your pieces(just comment in the chat) but I really want to improve my writing!


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1 Comment
  • AstroWriter

    ENFJ TWINSS omg i just realized i wrote my tennis ball in past tens xD i going to change it

    about 1 year ago