Where lights bleed yellow, green and red,
Where the hum of cars live by night;
The road is guided by moonlight,
When the burning sun is dead.
The yellow lines point to home,
The signs tells where to go,
The railroad tracks make it so;
Silence is never alone.
Greeted by winds from the coast,
The cold air is moist and thick;
The lighthouse is a burning wick,
That illuminates the sea’s host.
These winding roads all drive us home,
And these lights tells us when to go,
But this coast is all I’ve ever known-
The only place, I’m not alone.
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I did this one for my first portfolio, and couldn't think of anything to write so i'm sharing this with you all.
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This is really good. But I feel as though it's missing something. This is a terrible comment as I do not know what...I think it just needs more development, a central theme to give this poem stronger meaning.
ReplyDeleteNonetheless the imagery you used was very nice. I love the lines "The lighthouse is a burning wick,That illuminates the sea’s host."
And I'm not sure if you were aiming for a rhyme scheme... but if you were home and alone don't fit with the rhyming of the other stanzas.
i agree with rebecce i wasn't able to identify the central theme of this piece, but i think it does have great potensial.
ReplyDeleteyou used excellent couplets, and i enjoyed you repitition of home and alone on the second and forth stanzas.