A Poem Written Too Fast, But Had To Be Written Now - Do You Dislike?

Question:When did it happen?
Eyes sunken, face drawn

Bones poking through skin
Voice low and raspy

What once was robust
Is now deflated

Metamorphosis
Not a butterfly

Death waiting, watching
A matter of time

Best Answer - Chosen by Asker: When did it happen?
Eyes sunken, face drawn

Bones poking through skin
Voice low and raspy

What once was robust
Is now deflated

Metamorphosis
Not a butterfly

Death waiting, watching
A matter of time

I very much like this poem. It is powerful and tragic, a meaningful reminder of mortality. If you are going to rework this, please keep the lines "metamorphosis...not a butterfly". There is so much depth there. And the last two lines are frightening. Great poem. Thank you.

It needs work but it's a start.

I don't dislike, I like.

It's very good, and the sadness is compensated by the beautiful inverted image of the butterfly.

It`s not really my thing but maybe you have other poems that are lighter in mood because something about it seems ok in the way of it fitting together.

No matter what the subject matter I love when they have to be written.

Plain and simple...it's good.

Minor, minor tweaks: you could cut "and" in L4 and "is" in L6.

Good, good ending.

Sometimes, when the words come straight from the heart, rather than being reworked by the mind, the poem is poignant and touching, as is this one. I have seen what you describe happen and it breaks the heart.

I'm going to have to go with Amy G on this one. The idea of death, especially the death of something once beautiful, innocence crushed, is tragic, but your one key word turns it all around. Metamorphosis is what this poem hinges on. Death is not the end, it is a matter of time until a new beginning.

I know what this poem is about and my heart goes out to you. My prayers are with you and anyone who cares about Marguerite, please pray for her husband. This is touching and Poignant.

A life lived too fast, a life lived too long
Concealed in poems, and novels, and songs
A fear feared too much, a love loved so wrong.

A wound cut too deep, a race ran too far
Running through mud for dimly lit stars
A poem pushed too much, a thought that's too bizarre

A life lived too fast, a life lived too long
And a fading away until I am gone.

Sorry for answering in rhyme but I really like your poem- it was inspiring. :)

This is very beautiful and touching and may God help to keep you strong during this sorrowful time .My prayers are with you and yours..

Sounds like me in the morning but the butterfly never appears. Sometimes the people I work with would like it to happen, I think they get tired of the same old face. What's wrong, it is the way you feel and remember this is your world, paint it the way you want.