Am I any good at all? Should I keep writing or quit?

Question:"In His Hands"

One brisk and blowing winter's day,
an ancient and disused padre
did shuffle down the sidewalk grey.

Long coat of black and collar white,
blue eyes asquint against the light,
each breath a fog fading from sight.

His pockets deep, damp hands within
now clutching tight the proof of Sin,
smooth surface cold against his skin.

His destination lies ahead:
The rectory and quick to bed
to pray for sleep to calm his dread.

But now the wind becomes a gale
and from the heavens stinging hail
pelts down upon his concrete trail.

As clouds above where once were none
blot all remaining trace of sun
the ancient preacher starts to run.

His graceless gait is without speed
and in the gloom he fails to heed
the slick of ice which does the deed.

The nuns will find him in the morn’
and too will find the shame he’s borne
once from his fingers guilt is torn.

For in his frozen grip they’ll see
the demons he had failed to flee
in little Johnny’s rosary.

Best Answer - Chosen by Asker: "In His Hands"

One brisk and blowing winter's day,
an ancient and disused padre
did shuffle down the sidewalk grey.

Long coat of black and collar white,
blue eyes asquint against the light,
each breath a fog fading from sight.

His pockets deep, damp hands within
now clutching tight the proof of Sin,
smooth surface cold against his skin.

His destination lies ahead:
The rectory and quick to bed
to pray for sleep to calm his dread.

But now the wind becomes a gale
and from the heavens stinging hail
pelts down upon his concrete trail.

As clouds above where once were none
blot all remaining trace of sun
the ancient preacher starts to run.

His graceless gait is without speed
and in the gloom he fails to heed
the slick of ice which does the deed.

The nuns will find him in the morn’
and too will find the shame he’s borne
once from his fingers guilt is torn.

For in his frozen grip they’ll see
the demons he had failed to flee
in little Johnny’s rosary.

Wow, I would definitely say you are good. (here, deflate your head), But no. I have always loved poetry in three lines, especially when it rhymes as well as yours, with as good a rhythm. I wondered where you were going, you hooked me with the third stanza and brought me tumbling and running, being pelted with hail all to the horrific realization. Wow, eye opening. Great use of language, pathos, suspense. I am staggered.

Very good.

i actually don't care for poetry , but thats a good one, you're twisted

i gave him a positive response, and you people still thumbs down me! wtf! oh and twisted was not an insult, what is the point of having open forums if you can't answer openly?

You know it's good. I wonder why you felt the need to ask at all? If it's positive feedback you want I'm sure there are many poetry websites where you can share your poems with others and give and receive feedback. Happy writing :)

What's with the thumbs down? I said I like it I said it's good and that she shouldn't have had to ask, she should realise how good it is. Who ever gave me thumbs down is being silly.

this is pretty good. not my taste, but it's good. i think that you might be too concerned with what other people think though, try not to second guess your writing too much, good writers trust their instincts and question other people, ignoring their answers. Haha, kidding, but I think you really have a lot of good potential. Just don't force yourself to write, let it come out when you feel it. <3 Don't stop writing.

You are certainly a poet. A poet does not need to hit people on the head with meaning. Your imagery is often subtle, but clearly strong. You have talent for rhyme, meter and telling a story in a poetic manner. Please don't stop writing.

This is a wonderful poem
as for your of quitting or continuing
don't quit because if you do
it will be a disappointment
I like the rhyming in this poem
and its well written.

One brisk and blustery Winter's day

What is a disused padre?
(I absolutely hate 'did' in lines of poetry)

One brisk and blustery Winter's day
An old and disillusioned padre
Shuffled down the sidewalk grey

I gets better after that, and there is a very well maintained triple rhyme scheme, without losing the sense of the verses.

A tiny childish rosary
(little Johnny doesn't work for me)

I quit writing poetry a few years ago- I regret it now. I may start again, but I've wasted a lot of years.

Crushing and spectacular! I love how the ending is flashed.

I loved your poem. I don`t care what the old folks think.
Excellent work. Do not quit. "MY DEAR"

this sounds like it belongs in a story... see if you can write a story and tie this in (like Tolken)

I think it's a wonderful poem. The storyline is intriguing and invites the reader to go further and further into the story for resolution of the mystery presented....what is the torment of the priest.

Contrary to another poster's comment, I don't think you are twisted because I know for a fact these kinds of things are for real, not hype made up to make the priesthood look bad. There's bad apples in every barrel and the priesthood is no exception and needs to have the light of exposure, they are NOT above the scrutiny of the light.
I think the behavior of the priest depicted here is sick and I think you are definitely a helluva poet to have written about this subject so beautifully.
I very much enjoyed the piece. Please submit more.

This is horrific. You should respect your pastor. I honestly can't believe this. It's a bunch of hype brought up by the media highlighting a few incidences. Nothing worth poetry, my dear.