"You've failed the writing" - you were told,
And you gave up. You quit.
I saw one more young talent fold,
And they just laughed at it.
If you are told life's hard to play,
Your breath will still not cease.
How one should breathe, one cannot say,
As well as what to breathe.
You generated thoughts in rhymes,
The crowds wanted prose.
You know, they get harsh at times
From "truthful overdose".
You proved yourself a zero, too -
A zero with a core.
And though your words are so damn true,
You're nothing. Nothing more.
Comments
FTSE100 | July 24, 2009 - 12:29
I wonder what this could be about...
If you don't mind a bit of nitpicking, the third verse could possibly benefit from something like:
You generated thoughts in rhymes,
The crowds [just] wanted prose.
You know, they get [so] harsh at times
From "truthful overdose".
I've just inserted words that more or less fit, but you get the idea.
What do you think?
Skunk | July 25, 2009 - 06:35
Did you see her response to a suggestion about her last piece? Warn Jennifer to keep away!
April | July 26, 2009 - 19:20
I think you ruined the metre completely, and my version was just fine. Anyways, thanks for the response.