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/lit/ - Literature

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16894920 No.16894920 [Reply] [Original]

Anyone want to rate my poem? Actually trying to keep an iambic meter.

The trees in Winter call and cry,
forgotten they weep by and by.
Descending Frost comes from the North,
and shrieks "'til Spring we rule henceforth."

>> No.16894936

I laid in bed and wondered why
I ever studied philosophy.
I didnt make me smarter
For a starter.

So now that soon my end is near
I understand that I'm a queer.
What a great time
For biting the lime.

>> No.16894963

That's great man,I hope you succeed
The procrastination, over we must lead
It takes a pinch of heart to get up
From the arse we have fed up
Fed up, with laziness
The poison for mediocre craziness
Comrade we may follow through
The hell of suffering to
The well
The well of droplets containing success
We may bleed,cry and rage for success
In the end, all distress
Worth it? Is it? You may ask
I say in return
Your question is yourself to answer
And pray to god
The answer is yes

>> No.16895031

>>16894920


THE STRESS OF: «THEY» IN THE SECOND VERSE IS AWKWARD, AS IS: «FROM», IN THE THIRD.

THE THEME IS KITSCHY.

I RATE: FOUR OUT OF TEN.

>> No.16895041
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16895041

>>16895031
imagine taking advice from a tripfag

>> No.16895062

2nd line is not iambic.

>> No.16895088

meter sounds too cheerful to match the substance