I am looking for a reason to continue on this poetic journey. I can't show my family my poems, so looks like I'm showing you. But I just want to be criticized. To be told what to do differently. To be told where to go more. If you can, please check out my poem and oblige me.
If Fate were moved by tears, men would offer gold to buy them. Yet grief still puts them forth, as the tree puts forth leaves.
You, who have all the passion for life that I have not? You, who can love and hate with a violence impossible to me? Why you are as elemental as fire and wind and wild things... — Gone With the Wind
