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Click hereHe flirts in my mother tongue
words clumsy and half formed.
Where was he in fourth grade
when English made me bawl?
The multitudes contain me;
they are large, I am small.
Histrionic histories
sinking their hooks deep.
and I love it because of similar feelings at that age. It drew me into an uncomfortable past. I LOVE it, truly enjoy each word. Not too long, nor too short, like coming in and punching me in the teeth and then running off.
Evocative of primary school. I could smell the stale sandwichs and orange peel.
S1 is good, and the first two lines of S2 are excellent, with their inversion of Whitman. The last two don't work so well for Poet Guy, though. "Histrionic histories" seems a bit overdone. Poet Guy might consider dropping the last two lines and removing the S break, but that could just be him indulging his fondness for closing rhyme.
Nice poem.
interesting write, that I enjoyed reading
several times in order to grasp it's fullness
(~.-)
and he said something about wanting your horse?
It wasn't Richard the III was it, he's always looking for a horse.
100! BTW. Can it be improved,
of course, of course.
Everything can. I like this though.