Who will look and who will listen?

*duplicate comment*

Yes, another very sad poem. I think here, the love is has turned into an solid ice. A ice that is not willing to melt into calm water. I like the conditions you have composed in this write.

While reading this I got a feeling that a girl is weeping with blue tears, thinking about the breaking past.

A very nice write.

Michael has done a good job of analysing this poem, so I won't get too technical but I did enjoy it. It had a different sort of story and feel to it. Well done,

Ben

Hello Gel,

There is much I like about this poem, but I feel that I need to check something out with you first. I have noticed that when you rhyme, the words don't rhyme that well. Well, at least to an English tongue. For example,

Ask - is phonetically (for me) arsk
,whereas, Dust is dust

Anyway, it's probably me, but it does detract slightly from the rest which is very good.

What I like is the format, the spaced lines, the centre piece, using ~~~~. I love seeing poems that are presented well, and this one certainly is. :O)

You start the poem with an explosive statement. "Stories forced to break into my mouth. No one listens to what I'm talking about"
^
I like this turn of phrase, I can imagine a head so full of creative thoughts that it literally 'breaks' into your mouth. Couple this with the frustration caused by 'no one listening'

Reading up to the centre piece. I gained that, this is about a relationship that once blossomed: " Your love that was once told" and "The flame that used to warm our bed"

Many readers, including me will relate to this. There's nothing worse than a love that turns sour.

Wow, the centre piece is cutting. Here the highlighted section joyously states that there is now another. Another love who has taken the place of what was lost. What was left to go mouldy and wither. This part, "Coz babe, you can't even spell my name.
(hahaha)" made me see a spiteful moment, where a pent up anger is vented momentarily.

The final section - here we have our lover moving on. The experience that once frustrated and caused tears, now being harnessed and used as topics for poetry. I for one look forward to reading the nasty dark poetry that I am sure could come from such a hard experience.

Well done, there is much here for those willing to read.

Take care,

Michael x

Pleasure always