Young Writers Society

Ever so beautiful, isn't it?
This fairy tale life you live?
Even your disgust is categorized,
what you loathe dissected
into neat lines of appealing banter,
showing the world that your true feelings,
your inner being,
are just as perfect as your hair.

Your lines rhyme, your words flow,
and you speak in an angel's voice.
The rest of the world bows at your feet,
loyal supporters who can't see the facade.
False poet, you bathe in the light of popularity
that doesn't touch me, although I write, too.

Because my hair doesn't sparkle,
because my eyes are bleary rather than rimmed in mascara,
I fall to the sideline and you claim my prize.
Celebrities are something I am not,
and although the inhabitant letters of my notebooks
are better than the refined scripture of your numerous published works,
my work lingers in the shadows.

There are others like me, shadow-poets
who write for the sheer pleasure of it, and not
for the applause of mesmerized readers.
We write not because the world loves it, but rather
because we find solace in pens scratching against paper
as we sit up late at night scribbling furiously.

Someday this world will change, and we,
the eager shadow-poets who were once disregarded,
will rise to power and overtake literature.
A new generation will issue a proclamation
that true poetry flows not from fancy presses, but rather
from a ten-cent pen with ink that's running out.

This is really great! It's like you've put into words exactly what I've been thinking forever, and I'm sure a lot of the other writers on here would agree.

I think that to improve it, maybe you could add even more figurative language. You already have a lot in here, but I can see opportunities for even more. For example, you talk about how the more sellout-type poets organize their work too neatly. When I read this, I thought of a filing cabinet. You could compare their neatly organized lines to something like that. The same thing applies in a lot of other places, too.

I'd like to say that there's a lot I love about this poem. I especially like the last stanza, the last line to be precise. It seems my pens are always running out of ink. Also, some of your words are powerful. The way that you say "loathe" instead of hate, for example, and "mesmerized" instead of merely "satisfied".

You should maybe break apart some of the lines, though, just so that the flow isn't affected with all of those syllables. Other than that, though, I can't find any flaws in this. Great job.

Nice! I liked it, the topic, word choice, etc. I'll divide stuff into stanzas to make it easier.

Ever so beautiful, isn't it?
This fairy tale life you live?
Even your disgust is categorized,
what you loathe dissected
into neat lines of appealing banter,
showing the world that your true feelings,
your inner being,
are just as perfect as your hair.

I like the way you start out, and the fluency of the words is really good here. One thing i don't like is the mention of the hair at the end - that's not really what it's about, is it? so I really think it should be left out.

Your lines rhyme, your words flow,
and you speak in an angel's voice.
The rest of the world bows at your feet,
loyal supporters who can't see the facade.
False poet, you bathe in the light of popularity
that doesn't touch me, although I write, too.

The last two lines especially are too long and do not have very good rhythm. The first two lines, however, flow very well. It's just there's too many syllables at the end.

Because my hair doesn't sparkle,
because my eyes are bleary rather than rimmed in mascara,
I fall to the sideline and you claim my prize.
Celebrities are something I am not,
and although the inhabitant letters of my notebooks
are better than the refined scripture of your numerous published works,
my work lingers in the shadows.

Again with the hair and the face, it really should not be there. Isn't this supposed to be about printing versus just writing? Also, the second to last line is way too long; maybe you could split it between 'scripture' and 'of'.

There are others like me, shadow-poets
who write for the sheer pleasure of it, and not
for the applause of mesmerized readers.
We write not because the world loves it, but rather
because we find solace in pens scratching against paper
as we sit up late at night scribbling furiously.

In the first line, I don't think the hyphen in shadow-poets really belongs, it can just be two separate words and we still know they go together. Otherwise, I liked this stanza the best, actually, because it flows so well and I like what you're saying here as well.

Someday this world will change, and we,
the eager shadow-poets who were once disregarded,
will rise to power and overtake literature.
A new generation will issue a proclamation
that true poetry flows not from fancy presses, but rather
from a ten-cent pen with ink that's running out.

Love this last stanza! You really wrap up the piece well. I liked this poem a lot, keep writing!