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Children

Most times children grow up in world they don't expect,
They wish like they can change things but at that point they just have to accept,
They look forward to the future to see if it can give them something different,
But still they realize that the pass road to greatness is a big headache.

Most times when they look at their equals,
They wish they could be close to equal
But they keep drinking their wishes like liquor,
And hope for a day it becomes Big Won.

They were taught how to go church,
And look unto God as their trust
Yet lives around them needs to be touched,
And only then would they understand life..

Life is seriously a Dust
Soon to rust
Like a usual moist
Best thing is to do ur best at all cost.

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?
Last few words: 
I love children
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

is okay, but your language use could use a little work. I understand your thinking, and the theme is good, but your cultural differences show here. The differences are within the lines like: "They keep drinking their wishes like liquor" Using liquor and children in the same line, is not a thing that most people will do. I would say something like: Like licking sweets, they still hope for wishes to come true. Keep reading the poets you find here and studying the English-language. You have some really good ideas, you just need practice in putting them down. ~ Geezer.
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There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

I like poetry written in "broken English".
It doesn't have to make sense or be iambic, it merely needs to make me think and leave me wanting more.

Enjoyed your poem, BD.

Obi.

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