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Don't cry for me

When you hear of my disablement
Let your minds have amnesia over it
Dotage would be too intense,
But in all don't cry for me.

My eyes squint in the sun
Eyeing nowhere but a dot of the cloud
Over the distant horizon.
My hands holding tightly a wheel chair
Going nowhere, but to a garden stool
Set on the back of the cottage
Where bougainvilleas are climbers
Of jacaranda trees.

I see life in you,
And there is life in me
As when ants crawl onto my feet
Their feel rise to my spine
Their biting a terrible taste
Slowly I let my hand droop
Scratching those ants from mine skin
So in all, am I not able-?
After all don't cry for me.

My mind weak, my personality a weakling
My resolutions archaic, my reasoning stupendous
My plans short sighted.

They can steal from me, they can con me
They can shout at me,
Or laugh at:
But in all don't cry for me.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
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Editing stage: 

Comments

Very nice to meet you
And what an excellent write
I really fell into this
Great descriptive, I especially liked the lines about the bougainvillea (lose the 's' - the same is used as singular or pleural) climbing the jacaranda

One small grammar problem
'Scratching those ants from mine skin' -- 'mine' would read better as 'my'

And I think the repeating line is very effective
a good read
love judy
xxx

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

Good to have you back, one thing I will say is that before when you submitted poetry there were some good comments, but you didn't answer them, and just disappeared.
Let's see if we can change this.
I like the emotion here and gives a good base for many writes, one small thing "Scratching those ants from mine skin" I think MY skin will be better here not that I want those pesky ants walking on it lol.
When in South Africa I had a few friends in Zimbabwe, it is a lovely country.
Take care out there,
Yours Ian

.
Give critique to help keep Neopoet great.
Unconditional love to you all.
"Learn to love yourself first"
Yours as always, Ian.T, Sparrow, and Yenti

What can I say after reading this?...i could sense it profoundly...so I wouldn't care to look at minor errors considering the subject of the poem...

Regards,

raj (sublime_ocean)

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