There's a sea of Literaturists
littering the street.

One is blue like the ocean deep
and one is green just like sea weed.

One is gold, real royalty;
one is black and frightening.

Four are red and two are pink
but they all look like fish to me.

Note: This poem exists contextually within a novella I've recently begun working on that I'll likely be posting some of in the coming weeks. I'm only saying this to add that the writer is a young child and a Literaturist is pretty much a poet. It's also a fish. That's all.
hm...so its about a young child looking at a bunch of differnt poets walking down a street, but they are all somehow the same? hm... bit short, sorry i cant crit this for u proberly, not good good at poems...upon first skimming through it, it seems simple, but when actually reading it, seems to spark off that its digging at something. just not to sure of wat.lol. sorry for the bad crit, if u could leave as bad of one on 'the echoes' id me very pleased