by sophia jane
I just finished reading another one of your poems and I can see you definitely have a few things to say. This poem needs some more work, but you do have the most important thing here--something to say.
I HOPE NOTHING EVER TRAGIC HAPPENS TO YOU, FOR IT CAN MAKE YOU CYNICAL! I LIKE THE WAY YOU ARE........FRESH! I CAN SMELL THE FLOWERS.
I think the imagery could be a little bit more crips, but I fully got the meaning of your poem. Often I am in the same boat, late nights, trapped, alone, but free through poetry and the ability to share it with others. I really enjoyed how you tied that in with your daughter. The non-stop job of being a mother can often times make a woman forget that she is an individual. I'm glad you found a way to retain that for yourself.
Nice little piece ~
But what about the joys of fatherhood?
Perhaps I'd better write one...
What a devine thought ~ freedom in poetry. Swept away - caught up by the happy creative current.
This poem was mentioned in the Archival Review thread, in a picking through Lit's archive of over 34,000 poems.
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