my poem

irish blue eyes

hey i was just wondering if people culd comment on this poem. i got some harsh criticisms before so i can take it ha :pac:!!(not too harsh though!!)

wing’s can fly; but mine never did

A crisp wind moves through the trees,
as I watch in a jealous rage
perched on my pitiful prayer,
encouraged by my imagination,
arriving on time the formation of my dream.

fresh faces and distinctive places,
their beauty highlighted from the light of the sun,
a flight so enchanting
magic reaching deep into my soul,
a dream longing to be known.

instead I’m locked in this box,
caged in;
with no holes to breathe or light to live,
wings broken from the lack of adventure,
unable to get out, chained to the similarity of this monotonous life.

All that’s needed,
is a silver extract from a sliver of hope,
All year round guessing that never stops,
wishing, wanting and waiting. . . . .
and here I am still waiting.

perched on a prayer!

Aisling&M

I quite like that.
I think the first couple of verses have a great rhythm to them that reminded me of a harp being plucked or a small birds song
The last is a little less melodic in my opinion but I do love the last line.
Actually, now that I re-read it I do hear a bit more melody, but it has definitely slowed from the chipper tone of the beginning.....which could signify the changing mood of the poem.
or maybe I'm reading into it to deeply lol