Forgive me Fëanor, you know my abilities as a wordsmith pale in comparison to you...
He says your poem reminds him of a “youthful” (and I stretch that word) try at relieving some guilt ignorantly, or foolishly. Your attempt to express your emotions sounds corny and awkward, with hints of exaggeration (unless you know the term artificiality, from which the latter would be of better use), that my mind spins in trying to understand this chaotic story. Tell your story, but tell your story humbly.
He’s asking why is it you submit your poems in the public. Any form of sharing opens itself up to the possibility of getting an opinion you don’t actually accept. But hence the bitter sweetness of the whole scenario. Some opinions are harsh so that you can get better. Because if every time you did something, right or wrong, well or terribly, and you got nothing but praise, you’d never become anything more. So in telling Fëanor to not read your poems is like Michelangelo telling the people not to look at the Pieta, which I agree with Fëanor, is an incredible piece of work.
To speak honestly I somewhat agree with Fëanor both about the criticism and in the defense. Don’t post anything if your not willing to hear the worst. Post for the worst, rejoice for everything better.
Gender: Female Location: Some where in the Poison Ivy
there is critisim and there is constructive critisim and I have to say that Feanor's post was not the latter!
if your going to critic work, be objective about it. dont just say you dont like it, say WHY you dont like it.
anyways art and literature is all about the "reaction" not the "opinion" what ever that reation may be, it is there, its free and its begging to be tapped wether is be shock, disgust, amazement or other wise.
Gender: Female Location: Some where in the Poison Ivy
I prefer Rodin's work the gates of hell are amazing, I can believe he made those things out of cast bronze and they are over 10 foot high in stature!!!
Every time we talk, a certain question pops into my head
i want to ask the question, but i think i'll wrie a poem instead
as i lay here listening to your voice, i can't help but to smile
i can always feel you next to me, even when we're seperated by many miles
your the only person i love with all my heart and the only i would die for
when you say 'i love you' my heart wants to rip out my chest and yell 'more'
your love is the cure that healed my darkened heart and hated soul
your heart saved me from falling into suicide's enternal black hole
so, will you take my hand and hold it with your enternal love
hold it after i'm sent to Hell and you sent to the starry above
here by my side, always within love's reach, will you forver stay
Kelsy, will you marry me and love me until your dying day?
(like i said, its a love poem and those things aren't easy for me)
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Thank you Scythe. "Take one last look at your shining Heaven, Imperius. For soon, nothing of it shall remain, but my laughter..."