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Worth

It’s my universe and I created it.
When it was cold and dark
And it hurt and I cried
That was me

That was my existence and I hated it
Sadness turned to anger
Self loathing precipitated
Viscous despair

A vest of depression and I weighted it
Piled on mistakes and regrets
And dragged them around like a
Security blanket

But then…

Gravity clawed the garment and frayed it
All things have a shelf life
And even as my torment
Fell behind me
I’d find myself going back to gather it
And juggle as I walked

This graceless dance I can’t maintain it
I loosed the cannon balls to the ground
And took notice, how they barely rolled
The terrain caved with their density
And things became a bit less noisy
Especially when no one else was around

And they’re not all gone of course
I’ll always carry a few
A couple pretty stones in my pocket
Maybe a lead weight or two

But that which can’t fit in my hand
I’m learning to cast it to the earth
And learning also that sad mistakes
Are often pathways towards rebirth
Never street signs for your worth

It’s my universe and here I stand
And I have hope and faith
And it makes me smile
And it makes me cry
But it’s mine and it does what I say

Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
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?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
I have a tough time with titles. I’ve done some revisions with this one. You can beat me up figuratively speaking. I’ve faced plenty of adversity with my art. Thanks
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

Welcome to neopoet!
I much enjoyed your poem, these are my favorite lines:

But that which can’t fit in my hand
I’m learning to cast it to the earth
And learning also that sad mistakes
Are often pathways towards rebirth
Never street signs for your worth

it is very nice to meet you. you have had a hard journey, welcome home.

*hugs, Cat

*
When someone reads your work
And responds, please be courteous
And reply in kind, thanks.

Thank you! I think a lot of us have had a long journey and what’s more we all have so very far to go. I’m finding new ways to meet challenges and I’m finding support from both friends both old and new. Thanks again for commenting, and make today awesome.

author comment

what I see. You are a good poet, and I like your style. You rhyme well and I am primarily a rhymer. Occasionally I venture into the realm of free-verse. I like your title and the piece seems to progress smoothly from beginning to logical end. Nice job! ~ 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.

Please accept my gratitude. It means a lot if even one person think I’m a “good poet”. I do think it has a beginning and not so much an end but a new hopeful beginning. Thanks again.

author comment

Just a little rewrite of these lines, might be in order:

And they're not all gone of course
I'll always carry a few
A few pretty stones in my pocket
and maybe a lead weight or two...

~ Geez.
.

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.

like this poem! It resonates a feeling of shared emotion or believe.
Beautifully crafted!

"By virtue of creativity, my literary genre is poetry".

~Jackweb

Again just tremendously humbled and thankful. I’m really super glad you enjoyed it.

author comment

I like the stanzas legnthscyou selected. Made your piece very readable, and flowing.

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Raywhitakerblog.wordpress.com
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This was a very well written, emotional piece. I appreciate the honesty of your words. Being able to discuss ones daily battle with themselves even through poetry is brave and difficult to do. I really like how you own everything in your life good and bad as well. Good job.

~RoseBlack~

great poetry as always
RA

many skip me stone headed poet maybe

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