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Click hereWith the sun on his back and the wind in his face
he bought me roses , after he hit me
after he lied to me he brought me roses.
It wasn't my birthday or any special day
It wasnt mothers day or valentines day
but still he brought me roses . Is it my fault I would say , In the pool of blood were I lay he brought me roses. All the times I ran , Never again I lied but behind my pain a smile He brought me roses.Lay them here they say , they look beautiful they say . On the casket were I now lay. After he hurt me after I died He brought me roses.
This is a powerful piece, but it goes over very familiar ground. It is a simple narrative which tells the story, but does not go past being a cautionary tale. It would be much stronger if you explored the "why" of the situation.
to like in this hard poem. If I may say, I would reorganise it a little, break the lines up more, make it look more like a poem when towards the end it looks like prose. At the beginning, the lies maybe should come before the hits? But altogether a really good effort. Please write more.