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9/10/2006 c1 2JJJRRR
Hope is a glass bullet: beautyPerfection and simplicity astounds It is the last string left to graspLife is a simple cord, one could say:Harmless.

Life harms us most.A lead bullet courses through us,We heal.Pellets hit us, bounce off our skin.We hope,It embeds in the sallow skin of depressionCuts our resolve upLets go,Of our handAnd we take the fall. After hopeThe darkness of despair seems lonelier.You feelyou lostEverything - When hope isn’t there.Empty now, knowing the pleasure seems worse.A Darkness in our lives seems normalKnowing that piercing light is hope,But its removal is life threatening injury.

Alright, so I liked your poem more than I've liked this genre in a long while - years ago I was depressed severely, and you've captured quite well. Unfortunately, I'm a better editor than writer - I hope you don't mind, the only reason I changed it such as this was because I enjoyed it so much, but the staccato effect you've got is more poignant when its limited to the most important points, hope, feeling, lost, life threatened and injury. Write more! Improvement flows naturally from such efforts.
9/10/2006 c1 81Princess-anna57
Fascinating perspective. I applaud you. Keep writing!

~Anna~ ^_^

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