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You Wouldn't Know by Looking at Me
So this was a school assignment to write a poem about yourself. I figured since nobody knows much about me and I've been here for a while now I would post this poem to give ya a little backbone about my self. It might be a bit hard to follow. The first Stanza is about my broken foot and 3rd stanza is about my past.
Oh and Ive read it a few times and god damn I sound corny and emo but oh well. Not much of a writer. I hate writing in fact.. anyways any pointers?
Oh and btw im not emo at all usually a mellow dude
You wouldn't know by looking at me
that my past is filled with blank pages
nothing seems to be done
yet my past weighs a ton
actions seem to repeat themselves
intertwined in my history book
only to look at my foot
descimated, eradicated, disintegrated
blissful, joyful, mirthful
intoxicated by my shattered foundation
it was part of my book's ligation
from nothing to something
from endlessly blank pages
to tiny stains of imperfections
perfection is impure
jubilance rooting from pain is obscure
yet i find titillation
from the notion that my story evolves
translucent enough not to dissolve
so that I will be eillicited in the minds of others
But you wouldn't know by looking at me
that I am made up of various components
I function like a ticking clock
time is an extension of my mind
my thoughts, actions, ordeals are underminded
the constant ring of the clock
is similar to the pulsalating sting of my imagination
art rampages through my veins
vivd colors consitute my eyes
pencils are an extension of my hands
graphic design is an addendum of my expertise
the world is but my canvas
like the numbers that transfic a clock
basketball is my rock
the passion, intensity, proprioty of the game
is what I yearn
something that I can not spurn
But you wouldn't know that
not just by looking at me
and you wouldn't know that
I am forged with hollowness
formulated with what I have not accomplished
day by day
I catch a glimpse of my incessant future
with no neoteric affairs
haunted only by my forgotten tears
memories of dreadful nightmares
that end up to be reality
focalized on a dejected fat boy
who's best friend was food
because food won't ever leave him
unlike people
people will only decieve him
conflicted by the pressure of acceptance
he sought for transcendence of losing weight
to stop playing with his best friend
it was truly the war to end all wars
And you wouldn't know by looking at me
that I am consituted by my parents
corrupted by their morals
I dont fear pain nor death
but rather
the hinderances enclosed in life
pain is bearable
but an itch is not
questions constantly linger my mind
it's stupefying what I find
in the end
things work themselves out
no point in being a puppet of self doubt
But you wouldn't know that
not by looking at me
so don't look at me
look into me
feel me
hear me
know me
but don't just look at mes
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Deep stuff man
I think u did pritty well, but i dont understand all the words said in this :P
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Originally Posted by JustInCredible
So this was a school assignment to write a poem about yourself. I figured since nobody knows much about me and I've been here for a while now I would post this poem to give ya a little backbone about my self. It might be a bit hard to follow. The first Stanza is about my broken foot and 3rd stanza is about my past.
Oh and Ive read it a few times and god damn I sound corny and emo but oh well. Not much of a writer. I hate writing in fact.. anyways any pointers?
Oh and btw im not emo at all usually a mellow dude
You wouldn't know by looking at me
but my past is filled with blank pages
nothing from before seems to be done
yet that emptiness weighs a ton
actions seem to repeat themselves
intertwined in my history
only one look at my foot
and before seems slightly less of a mystery
decimated, eradicated, disintegrated
blissful, joyful, mirthful
shaken by my shattered foundation
it was but part of my book's creation
from nothing to something
from endlessly blank pages
to tiny stains of imperfections
perfection is impure
jubilant growth from pain is obscure
yet i find titillation
from the notion that my story evolves
alive enough to never dissolve
so that I will be elicited in the minds of others
You wouldn't know by looking at me
but I am made up of various components
I function like a ticking clock
time is an extension of my mind
all thoughts, actions, and ordeals within are mine
the constant ring of the clock
is similar to the pulsating sting of my imagination
art tears wildly through my veins
vivid colors constitute my eyes
pencils are an extension of my hands
graphic design is an addendum of my expertise
the world is but my canvas
like the numbers that transfix a clock
basketball is my rock
the passion, intensity, propriety of the game
is what I yearn
something that I cannot -- will not -- spurn
You wouldn't know that
not just by looking at me
and you wouldn't know that
I am forged with hollowness
formulated with what I have not accomplished
day by day
I catch a glimpse of my incessant future
with no esoteric affairs
haunted only by my forgotten tears
memories of dread and dreams of nightmares
these end up to be reality
projected on a dejected fat boy
who's best friend was food
because food won't ever leave him
unlike people who so often do
people will only deceive him
conflicted by the pressure of acceptance
he sought for transcendence of losing weight
to stop playing with his best friend
it was truly the war to bring all wars to end
And you wouldn't know by looking at me
that I am constituted by my parents
corrupted by their morals
I don't fear pain nor death
but rather
the hindrances enclosed in life
pain is bearable
but an itch is not
questions constantly linger my mind
it is stupefying what I find
in the end
things work themselves out
no point in being a puppet of self doubt
You wouldn't know that
not by looking at me
so don't look at me
look into me
feel me
hear me
know me
but don't just look at me
Some of your words weren't words, or didn't make sense with how you used them. I just changed those and changed a few parts to work better together and corrected some spelling. Good job. =D
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this makes me giggle loooool
great job man, deep stuff...
I dont make sigs anymore
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I think this is a very good piece. You've managed to get your point accross while using good vocabulary and techniques. However, as already said, I've spotted misuse of words and spelling mistakes but they can be corrected. The only real critism i have for you is that there is no punctuation at the end of each line. I suggest you use enjambent in order to control the pace of the poem since the irregular rhyme scheme you have used confuses how it's read.
But overall, nice descriptive language and technique. Kiu!
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