A look at what is currently available on eBay
Do you have any constructive critisism for my poem?
I float in the green murk,
No direction but impulse.
Interruptions are welcome but few;
The warm surface
Or scent of sustenance from you.
Enticing to the senses;
False promises to a fool.
I brush against ancient trickery,
Testing with my lips.
You've floated so near,
So still,
For so long.
But I'll never know what piercing iron lays beneath.
I bite hard
And taste you.
Sweet and laced with piercing barbs.
The line tightens,
Jarring my skull skyward.
I struggle for a moment.
If only you'd follow me to the depths,
Or the line would snap
But I know too well how this ends.
Gasping for water but flung into fire,
Cauterised for a fleeting flavour.
I tear myself loose.
Half a face pulled from the bone.
You can keep it.
I'm happy with this bleeding void.
I can nurse it in sunny shallows with other fish
Until it heals and I try again.
The title is "Fishing", I forgot to add that to begin with.
This is my favourite part:
"I bite hard
And taste you.
Sweet and laced with piercing barbs.
The line tightens,
Jarring my skull skyward."
However this verse kinda threw me:
"I struggle for a moment.
If only you'd follow me to the depths,
Or the line would snap
But I know too well how this ends.
Gasping for water but flung into fire,
Cauterised for a fleeting flavour."
It makes sense but the flow is strange.
This is a beautiful piece.
Keep writing.