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Definitions

Pain
Smashes suddenly
With an iron fist
In soft spots
Help

Spite
White hot
Churning Words
Without thought
Hurt

Hate
Darkness
In the heart
Stupidity
Amok

Envy
Taking
With the mind
Someone else's
Best

War
Roaring
Black and red
Monster of
Death

Pride
Swelling
Ego,sometimes
Deserving, often
Not

Sin
Tear in
The fabric
Of one's
Soul

Death
No breath
Or thought but
Sparkling
Light

Friend
Sharing
Feelings and
Same hearted
Love

Faith
Belief
Unshakable
Lifeline to
God

Gift
Something
Freely given
A Piece of
Heart

Doubt
Questions
Unanswered
Wobbly thoughts
Collapse

Peace
Quiet
Time of love,
Heaven on
Earth

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
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?
Editing stage: 

Comments

that I can see where the title might be apt. I like the statement of the one word and then a terse explanation of what it means to the writer. It works for me. ~ Geezer.
.

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 really enjoyed the originality of presenting a few touches to define a word. I consider them very well constructed, like tight Imagist poetry. Because I think they are so well done, I do not like the title, which makes them seem more trite, as ramblings of thought. They are little gems!

I also generally dislike the style of one word to a line poetry,
I
don't
understand
why
people write
poems
like
that

but it works great here, as each word has significance and enough weight to carry a line. It gives each word a charge.

So i think this is an outstanding poem.

Eumolpus
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

is that I believe this to be free verse and not structured western. Otherwise, I agree with Eumolpus.

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

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