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Our Hill at Night

Under the stars of night
we sit, with wind blowing,
and the moon gleaming bright.
That was its way of showing
that everything here was just right.

The music comes out and out
just as you strum about.
It all flows as if it were water,
like love of mother and daughter...
Smooth, without any doubt.

Your name is Kayla, so light.
It floats off the tongue, just right.
You play the guitar all the time,
And I write lyrics with a rhyme,
So we sit and sing in the thyme.

I always have an arm around you,
As you strum your rhythm through.
I sing my lyrics of love so true,
And sitting is all I can do.
So thats what we do, sit and sing, through and through.

All we like doing is sitting with a chill,
Up and up on that one certain hill.
That hill where dreams become more than nil,
And life floats by and by all in the thrill.
Even when all seems so ill.

So under those stars of night we sit,
Up on our once certain hill....
We sit and sing for hours and a bit,
Fingers flowing on string and vocals in a trill.
Thats why I love this with such a will.

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 was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Editing stage: 


I love the smooth flow of words, the rhyming and imagery.

Under the dim moonlight glow
I howled to the heavens above
mourning the injustice that flow
that killed the ones i loved

They called me a monster
just because I am different
but I never hurt another
without any real reason

I hunt to survive
not for some sick pleasure
even as i strive
i never upsets the balance of nature

While the scums who called themselves Man
believed they are superior
even when they strike against fellow men
in a war against one another

so who is the real monster?
The beast who kill to feed
or the men who should know better
than to fight out of greed?


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