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Ebo
07-27-2005, 01:37 PM
A verse I wrote on the bus today:

What's being loved worth if you don't know it?
What's feeling love worth if you don't show it?
If you want to play ball, you've got to throw it.
You could hold on, but then you'd blow it.
Behold the inner poet, for he puts words to your thought.
Something you always wanted, but never sought.
And now that you hear it distinctively,
you pick the message up instinctively.
And contemplate a while, how we could ever be so vile.
Straightforward denial, seeing weakness in a smile and strength in hatred.
You wonder why you're so frustrated.
Hate's fires burning wild and love's cremated.
And you're seeking, oh so hard, for something sacred.
Face the world naked, without your shell, a tailor-made hell.
Open your eyes, you've got a story to tell.

Ebo
07-31-2005, 02:37 PM
I'd love to hear some comments....

Ebo
08-01-2005, 12:47 PM
...and still do.

GuardianOne
08-02-2005, 12:32 AM
It quite an impressive verse, and has a strong poetic essence. Your style begins to draw some one to the real flow of poetry. Nice verse, the first lines seemed a bit obscure, but it gained its structure in content as the verse progressed.

peace