Future Writers discussion

This is for Leash's Writings!

A poem I wrote a few months back, still a rough draft, I would love any critiques on how to fix or make it better :)

Mortal Fog

Fog mystified air clings in the atmosphere, Beautiful yet secretive

What wonders and surprises could it be hiding?

What dangers and sinister doings are on the other side?

Does it always hide something away?

Will it ever let its captives go to escape?

How much can this mist hide inside before it bursts?

When parts of it evaporate does it hurt?

When it leaves does it depart to be alone? Or to move on in the world?

Could this fog be alive like you or I?

AH! If there was a like button, I would push it! Very good! I love fog! I like how you set it in this poem too! Very nice! :)

Another Poem, I would love any critiques on how to fix or make it better :)

With the Flow:

Wet and calm, I move with the flow. Drifting though the gentle waves without a thought. But there is no peace within me, I know I am looking for something but I don't have a clue.

Time is ticking, the waves get fiercer pushing me against one another, breaking my flow.

There, there you swam. Creating the storm, disturbing the delicate waves I had swam in for so long.

You smiled and laughed at my discomfort to such a new environment, the winds exhaled through our hair, you stared.

Taking my feeble hand with your own firm one, you pulled me onto another path to follow.

By.Leash

I loved this so much!!!



Nothing is wrong to me!!

hehe I thought this was mine! our names are pretty close you just have an "s"

Ⓛeah wrote: "hehe I thought this was mine! our names are pretty close you just have an "s""

Haha, yeah I did the same thing :P

=D It is not often that happens to me the closest to my name anyone comes is Lindsey or Mia...

Aflame

The wind is cold, a chill to my bones.

The snow falls through these bars, the bars of my cage.

Abandoned by my people, locked away from everything and everyone but the past.

My frail hands cannot break these bars, they cannot even make a dent.

Falling to the middle of the cage, I weep, what is left? What is the point in living in such a cold place?

No matter which way I move, I still get bit by the frost.

When I thought it was as cold as it could get, night falls and the weather becomes bitter.

And so lonely.

I pull the rags of my clothing, closer to my body, maybe some warmth can be found in something torn and shredded.

I close my eyes, hoping this was good bye.

Unfortunately I wake to another day,

However, this one has a little color.

Looking outside the bars of my prison, I see a flower bloom.

Fiery in color, defying its surroundings, growing through the cold.

I could not reach it through the bars, but I learned to observe it and watch it grow.

Having the courage to bloom into this frosted world.

By.Leash