Tell me if I'm good.

[mew~mew~and more fuckin'~mew~]

Just thought I'd start a little place were people can post and review poems + i want to know wether I'm the only one who thinks my poetry is nice.

P.S. shut the fuck up richard, your opinion don't count.

[mew~mew~and more fuckin'~mew~]

Bloody Lilies
The wind blows through the lilies.
That great abysm of white.
The lilies, they stand tall and straight,
Breathing in the stagnant air of the night.

The breeze runs through the stalks,
And kisses the dainty flowers.
The zephyr smiled as it breathed in the perfume,
And rubs its nose against the petals.
But, hark! What is the scent that taints the air?
And smells of the most foul of metals?

Curiosity overcame the wind.
And thus it rushed forward,
With all possible haste,
Toward the wall that bordered.

And O what a sight!
What a sight did it behold!
"O," sighed the wind, as it gazed open the sight,
"Whoever did this, I swear, I shall return it to him tenfold!"

And so intent on revenge was the wind,
That it paid but little heed,
To the small little girl,
Crying out with need.

"Help me, Mr. Wind!"
The young girl exclaimed in a small and frightened yelp.
"I beg of you Mr. Wind!
My mother... My mother needs some help!"

"Nay, girl," the wind replied.
"You see, girl.
See how she is cold and glassy eyed?"

"O I see! I see Mr. Wind!
But pray! Do not let your speed abate!
You must rush forward and fetch a doctor!
There is not a second to wait!

"Nay, girl." the wind said again,
"'Tis not for your mother I mourn.
'Tis for the innocent blossoms that were spattered with blood
When you mother's heart was pierced with a thorn."

And with that the wind rushed off.
Off to seek his revenge,
But he left one thing behind him:
A crying young girl beside a blood splattered henge.

"O cruel Mr. Wind!"
The young girl sobbed,
"You leave me here, Mr Wind! You leave me here!
Without a single thought for my sorrow.
Without a single thought for my fear!
You rush off without a care!"
The girl cried, shaking her fist at the stars,
"No concern for the fact that 'tis my mother's blood that taints the air!"

"I'll fix you, Mr. Wind!"
The girl cried,
"O, I'll fix you right!
You'll see! You'll see, Mr. Wind!
Just how bloody your lilies will be by the end off the night!"

And with that the girl pulled the knife from her mother's breast,
And started off,
Vowing that she shan't rest,
Until every blossom in the great, white flood
Was dark and dripping
and stained red with (can you guess what?) blood.

And can you guess who's blood she used?
Why, her own of course!
She slit her wrist and she ran and she screamed
Until her throat was hoarse.

Then, as it is said,
She promptly tripped
And fell down dead.
Her dress stained and ripped
Her hair in disarray,
And O how the wind mourned.
Mourned that fateful day.

And thus, the moral of the story is:
Never ignore little girls,
Because doing that, why 'tis...
Why 'tis not right!
I dare say.
To disregard a person that way.

Through really,
Methinks the wind's reaction
Was rather silly.
All that mentioned could have been avoided,
That is, the revenge of Nilly.

Also, though the wind will never be made to see
As much beauty in the whole affair
As we.

The lilies, as the sun rose
Had a grisly kind of grace.
As did the white petals
That lay on the young girl's face.

And that field of white
Really looked quite handsome,
Compared to how they were last night,
When decorated by drops of scarlet
That sparkled and twinkled like rubies
When struck with the day's new light.

[Akatsuki Obsesser]

that was great. i loved it

[mew~mew~and more fuckin'~mew~]

Mew^_^ hugs you. get maggie to read too if she hasn't already.