Silent words, in some empty place.

She wanted to be a poet,

not knowing,
not understanding,
each metaphor muddled the page
with snarled similes
benign and befuddled.

The theme was vague,
the ambition wasted,
and time had expired.

Each word lay
in a grammatical grave,
invisible to a poem-lover's eyes.

They died in a hidden place,
uneasy and quiet,
like a botched poetic stillborn.

Reviews

[Einstein Noodle]

yep...can sure relate! well said Relic ... remorse is to be felt for writing it ..and then again for posting it eh!? ;)))) going off now to examine my conscience ..and my errrrrrr postings :}
E.

[Relic]

Thanks Einstein. :)

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

I think this is great. I didn't see the original, but this is perfect. Each poem is a stepping stone to the next, without the ones before, you would have never arrived at this one. Great job.

[Relic]

Thank you Linda.

[emmajoy]

' .. The ambition was erroneous, the lines are too clunky, ' - a perfect coming to terms, an honesty in so few words! '

Sometimes there have to be those poems .. the ones that hide as reminders that we can't create 'perfection' every time! So doing, they become unseen secretaries, nudging, meandering, setting the mind roving for something extra!

Didn't read the original but wouldn't compare to be honest.. your mind might have misinterpreted what you've finally laid above.

[Relic]

You have a great optimistic way of looking at things. Thank you emma.

[emmajoy]

It's that or sink beneath the waves... negative ripples are so darned wet!!!

[Rojas]

This is a great rewrite. I can't recall exactly what has changed, but the lines feel more compact . end more punch.

I still like the things I enjoyed last time I looked.

[Relic]

Thanks, I took some lines out. The last version had 40 views and you were the only one who commented.