The poetic bluff was me trying to relieve the tension even though the tension wasn't that high anyways but it was also supposed to leave a kind of dreadful feeling about what the writer might do as soon as he gets one. Anywho, thanks for reading and I'm glad you enjoyed it!

The imagery does pull the reader into the scene, and the rhyming creates an interesting lighthearted atmosphere that keeps the reader there longer than they might otherwise stay. Like the catchy tune behind "pumped up kicks." Still, I think the shock of it all wore thin by "blood seeping into the sheets." I also think it might be better to leave the reader more curious as to the nature of the scene of horrors. It's more mysterious and compelling if we don't know why the brains are splattered. It's more mysterious and compelling if you don't show your cards at the end and tell us all about your poetic bluff.

Thanks for your critique! I appreciate it a lot.  
I am not gonna lie and say I spent a lot of time on it, cause really I wrote it in a 30 minute sprint cause I hadn't written all day, so, I decided to experiment and make a rhyme cause it just seemed to make sense to me more than writing one in a free verse. The idea here was to give everyone a grim, sad and quick feeling of dread and reading with rhymes would lead to a quicker reading and the rhymes would just make it jolly yet dreadful. As far as I've seen, everyone has liked different parts of this poem, so I'm starting to believe that re-writing this in free verse with everyones opinion on mind could be a good thing but for now, I feel like leaving this piece alone cause it's fulfilling its purpose for me as its writer.

I think when it comes to pieces like this less is more. Rhyme less, it creates a clearer image it puts the action or the scene of events in the readers face and makes them uncomfortable. Make us deal with it without the protection of what we expect to see in a poem. 

“Blood seeping into sheets”
“Dripping from walls and torn cheeks”
“My facial fat” 

Those are hard to stomach lines, but lines that are worth reading, they make it worth reading because of how brutal and grimy they are. Make me want to hate reading any further for fear of the unsettling. The little internal rhyme in those lines is good, it doesn’t seem like you sacrificed word choice for the sake of a well placed rhyme. 

The idea of the poem itself is a hard one, so don’t make it any easier. Thats just an idea though, I think it’s the strong point of your work here, but if that’s not the way you want to go please don’t. It’s your work and I really like it, so take it where you think it’s best suited.


Hello readers, welcome to OCpoetry. This subreddit is a writing workshop community -- a place where poets of all skill levels can share, enjoy, and talk about each other's poetry. Every person who's shared, including the OP above, has given some feedback (those are the links in the post) and hopes to receive some in return (from you, the readers).

If you really enjoyed this poem and just want to drop a quick comment, to show some appreciation or give kudos, things like "great job!" or "made me cry", or "loved it" or "so relateable", please do. Everyone loves a compliment. Thanks for taking the time to read and enjoy.

If you want to share your own poem, you'll need to give this writer some detailed feedback. Good feedback explains from your point of view what it was like to read the poem, and then tries to explain how the poem made you feel like that. If you're not sure what that means, check out our [feedback guide](https://new.reddit.com/r/ocpoetry/wiki/feedbackcritiques), or look 

[Check out my poem tho](https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/w66zij/untitled/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3)

Honestly no, its really good. 

Honestly no, it's really good.

Thanks! I'm glad you liked it!
Anything you think I can change/improve?

I'm not always a fan of rhyming in poetry, sometimes I feel it can damper the work, but wow it really works here. The rhyming adds a flow that creates completely in comparison to the violent nature of the poem. 

It shows all aspects of suicide, its dirty and grim, "and salty wails of love and grief", I know this line is about the narrator, but it also invokes the imagery felt by the people grieving the narrator. 

"If only I had a gun  
and not this pen and paper"

Poetry is being used as an alternative to suicide, which is a beautiful thing. It gives kudos to poetry's ability to relieve some pain.

Thanks a lot for pointing these things out, I do notice a lot of the problems now.  
-About the rhymes and meters, I intentionally made a new rhyme pattern every stanza as long as I could express what I felt. It was a quick work I wrote in a sprint but I felt it could be refined so I brought it here and you made me realise a lot of things. I usually do write in free verses but I decided to divert from that. The weirdly structured phrases were done cause I didn't have much time and I had to rush the work so experimenting with grammar felt okay but I notice how bad it is.  
-The shock value thing is something I'll definitely have to keep in mind cause you caught me there but about the forced rhymes, I only forced - magz, rags and mouth, uncouth. Rest of it was done all in order to get through to my readers but it looking forced simply means I failed.  
-Me being unable to communicate feelings with descriptions is me failing too and the redundancies are indeed a weakening part of my writi

Okay, congratulations on attempting this piece. It's always better to try rather than not do anything. That being said, you asked for critique so here we go:  
- Rhyme feels force in a number of places: roof, aloof, muzzle, puzzle, magz, rags etc. It's not those ending words themselves, rather if you look at those lines again, you'll realize that you came up with the latter lines in those pairs simply because you felt a need to somehow (or anyhow) make it rhyme, and not because it was a thought or feeling the poem required.  
- Either make it reasonably consistent metre, or just go free verse. Constantly inconsistent metre is distracting.  
- Except for the last stanza, and the two instances "sorrowful weeps ... love and grief" and "I'm out of the puzzle", the poem is nothing more than a litany of descriptions. I feel like the first few lines might be okay with some enticing descriptions, but when you keep on doing the same thing throughout the poem, it quickly gets boring, and the rea

keep on rhyming, its not where it can be but im sure it will. the rhyming words fit arguably well while the rhytm is kinda clumsy or i just cant read a rhytm into it. anyway i tried because i like the picked words and how they are arranged so if you try to put the rhytm in place a bit more then i feel it would be very grand.

The ending was me trying to relieve the tension even though the tension wasn't that high anyways but it was also supposed to leave a kind of dreadful feeling about what the writer might do as soon as he gets one.   Anywho, thanks for reading and I'm glad you enjoyed!

I really loved the rhythm in this, it played in my head like a rap song. The ending was a bit abrupt/ disjointed for me, but I still think it is a good piece of work.

Oh, it's part of a rhyme which I don't wanna break, even though it feels weird, but that's just this poem, weird and grim. Thanks for your critique though! I appreciate it!

Love the evocative imagery.

Only thing I would change is 'taper' to 'tamer' at the end, or 'tapering' and scrub 'getting'.

>for I would much rather die youthfully

>than live in shame, tapering.

Brains splattered across the roof,  
jaw hanging wide aloof,  
the air around, musky, shrewd  
with loose eyes, unscrewed.    

Blood seeping into the sheets  
dripping from walls and torn cheeks  
where trickled in past my sorrowful weeps  
and salty wails of love and grief.    

Gun clasped in the palm,  
the air around, exceptionally calm  
smoke coming out the muzzle  
finally, I'm out of the puzzle.  

Bullets missing from the magz  
the cap I wore is in rags  
as is, my facial fat  
where a bullet dwells.    

Still some saliva escapes my mouth  
as my body leaks urine, faeces,  
all you could call my carcass is uncouth  
for its behaviour as life ceases.  

If only I had a gun  
and not this pen and paper  
for I would much rather die youthfully  
than live in shame, getting taper.    



Honestly, any help with the piece would be appreciated. Any harsh critiques are welcomed and I would love to be told where I could improve. 


Some other great works-

[1](https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/w5zpqv/my_abcs/ihbh8sm?utm_medium=android_app&amp;utm_source=share&amp;context=3)

[2](https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/w5zpqv/my_abcs/ihbh8sm?utm_medium=android_app&amp;utm_source=share&amp;context=3)

A gun