I have read with interest, your comments, that some of your poems have not received reviews or ratings.
My understanding is that others, like myself ,are intimidated with your excellent knowledge of writing, that we cannot aspire to and therefore shy away from trying to compete with you.
Your kind and informative review of my poem, has made me realize that I am wrong
in this assumption.
"The Cause of Ruin" is a lovely poem and I thank you for sharing it.
This is a great short story ,written in a style to keep one guessing,right to the end
where the red faces slowly turn away to shame for judging the book by it's cover.
My thanks to you, for your kind review of my poem.
HI and please understand that I am slightly intimidated with being a buddy reviewer for a professional like you.
Firstly, my deep appreciation for your kind and clear reviews, of my poems that will futher inspire me to improve,
This is my first attempt at a short story, so here it is.
My first thoughts while reading your captivating account of the florists delema, was that you were in fact telling a story about yourself, which is why it is a five star story for me.
Two comments are as follows:-
Kenny were just --Perhaps [ Kenny was just ]
you do really beautiful work --Perhaps [ youre work is very beautiful ]
How brave can a child of twelve be, when confronted with the choice to run away ,or stay and shoot the abusive father, that beat her mother like the coward that he is, too afraid to stand up and say -Yes I am a bastard and need to run away and leave you to build a new future with a kind man that will love you and your daughter, to live without fear and grow old together.
Krisi, I laud you for your courage to write this.
My thanks for the wonderful news -The Awardicon and Gps.
Not afraid to expose
the evils of the day
in a positive poem
that all may read
to understand
the fight for freedom.
Herewith, my poem
on the evils of a mad man
ruling a country without democracy.
Awake, awake the drums are beating
people in the streets of Zimbabwe-
Nine million zim dollar to buy
a yankee dollar in time
to buy a loaf of bread
to feed a family of five
to wonder why
they must die,
by order of
a mad dictator,
with force to vote
or see the whips
lashing upon their backs
to beat them black and blue
that they may fall down to wonder
how can it be possible in this day and age
to live in a land without a democracy for it’s people.
Hello Jeanne Sparks-Carreker,
to dream I have a dream
to see me and my kin
converted to love and hold
and grow old with others
of color not like mine
but inside the same.
Why. why o why
should I be denied
to mix and play
with those who
love me as I am
a Christian child
loved by God.
HI the Angel that would think of me
to write a poem about my misery
when I was young and afraid
not knowing why or what I did
to deserve the horrors, not yet
forgotten in my nightly dreams.
I have heard more that a hundred
"I am so sorry, Son,"
but the next blow
takes all the sorry's away
to another day
where he waits again.
Perhaps you will read my latest poem -
"Therfore I Cry."
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