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the last real one
Standing here
on relics worth gold,
I yearn
to speak with men of old
to learn
of stories yet untold
to earn
respect and remain bold
Come to me
spirits of my fathers
and as my
worst fears unfold
if I am timid
make me bold
if I am weak
give me your strenght!
Standing here
I'll no more roam
demons beware
I am at home..
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| I love what it's about, very moving. |
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| Hi Adeyinka, the rhyme scheme in the first stanze is outstanding. I love the whole poem, but with a bit of effort, I bet you could nail down the rhyme scheme in the rest of the poem. That might make it even better. Sometimes it's hard to keep they rhyme and rhythm and not lose the feel and meaning. It takes work. Good luck and keep writing. Also last line, second stanze, the word "Strength" should not have a "t" at the end. Janet |
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| wow, I really enjoyed it, good job with wrapping it up! |
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| This has a wonderful flow to it! Very enjoyable read! |
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