Sad sheets with sad houses
And problems hidden inside,
Exposing themself through the welling up
Of her beautiful, doomed eyes.
But when did all this happen?
When children were brought up exposed
To the pitch of a voice panicking
At the running engine and garage door closed?

Inside the house, on the walls,
Pictures of old memories-
When my woman was just a girl,
Caught laughing as she played on the swings.

But now the walls seem bare,
The house quiet and cold,
Her mother passed out by the stairs,
Her father quiet and cold.
No soft smiles from her anymore,
No jokes by the dinner table.
Not even forced smiles from her anymore,
Not even a meal on the dinner table.

What do I tell her now?
What good are words alone?
And how the hell can I allow
Myself to return home, when
Looking her in her eyes, her
Desperate, hurt eyes, as
she silently concedes in me
The troubles hidden inside her and
The troubles only she can feel.
All I can do- and **** this,
**** my incompetent form
And my lack of direction-
All I can do, all
My useless self can do,
In an attempt to heal
Beauty's deep, endless wounds,
Is wrap a small plaster over them
And tell her it'll get better soon.
Last edited by thepickups at Jun 2, 2008,
Your characterisation was absoloutely spot on with this one.

I think "the troubles" was a bit weak compared to how much building up you had already done.

Looking her in her eyes, here

Typo with "here" or some wordplay?

I also think the consistent flow just went a bit towards the end, especially from the enjambment of "all my useless self", and "heal beauty's". I think it's the sort of ending which needs a good flow into it, so that when the comma comes and you go into the final clause, the reader knows these are the final thoughts. Right now, it's a bit too choppy for me up until those last two lines and the ideas seem broken, when I know they're not.

Just a thought.

**** those that say rhyme doesn't work. This shows it's still alive and kicking.
Cheers. What about the characterisation did you feel worked? I'm interested.

You were right, that was a typo. And I agree, it lost it's rhythm in places. Although that was intentional in places, in others it wasn't, and i agree with you.

Thanks, Eggmond, too.

I've been trying to get this poem out for weeks and then suddenly last night, at midnight it all just worked.
this was stupendous.

that is all.
that is all that needs to be said.
that is all i will say.
There's a road that leads to the end of all suffering. You should take it.

- Jericho Caine

secret, aaaaagent maaan.
secret, aaaaagent maaan.
I liked the use of the repetition of beautiful showing admiration from the narrator, but contrasting with the "my woman", which I thought showed lack of respect.

Also, I felt the ending lines were really strong and added to this great sense of hopelessness and desperation to fix things. This compared well with the above "my woman" and the "no dinner on the table" (paraphrasing here). I felt it gave it great character in that he wants to fix things but can't see that it's his attitude that is becoming, or is, the problem.

Or have I missed the mark ?