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This poem is part of the contest:

Neopoem Of The Week March 26th to April 1 2023

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Thorns

The paper skin
Has bled its regrets.
Thousands of red dykes
Burst from the bramble infantry
Have dried.
Though Wind
Still blows through the holes.

About This Poem

Style/Type: Structured: Western

Review Request Direction: What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?

Review Request Intensity: I appreciate moderate constructive criticism

Editing Stage: Editing - polished draft

About the Author

Country/Region: Pennsylvania

Favorite Poets: Sylvia Plath , Edgar Alan Poe

More from this author

Comments

RoseBlack

RoseBlack

2 years 3 months ago

Hi Kyle

I really like this. I like how you use thorns to describe how fragile we are and how we bleed our emotions. My only suggestion would be to change the word "the" to "its" in the line "Burst from the bramble infantry." I especially like that line. Makes me think of being caught in a rose bush and being stuck with its many thorns. Good job.

Ruby Lord

Ruby Lord

2 years 3 months ago

Thorns

Loved this poem. Your use of symbolism and metaphor is perfection, and I am envious of your talent. Well done, Ruby x