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Death by Criticism

By
“Running Pen”, she is faithfully christened
Verbose, fruitful words flow, heavy deluge
And the inverse of a spider web, she
Gives more than a skeletal template, leaving nothing
To envision but everything to interpret
She attempts to pick flowers but no, she ends
Up with brown and murky weeds of jelly
Enthusiasm dies, frustration takes its place
Spirit drops like a heavy bomb of rain
Her words, beats, syllables cannonball into
The black void of a poem
Open for judgment and critique
Death by criticism.





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pedot said...
Oct. 23, 2008 at 1:47 am
this poem is very descriptive can really feel the emotions the author is trying to relay! keep up the good work!
 
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