Rare

Quickly writing this down because I'm supposed to be doing work but instead I'm procrastinating. Will edit asap.

Ice is so pure and fragile,
With one touch it can downfall into a thousand peices
It's tranclusent crystals bouncing light off of every particle that reaches the cold, clear solidity
Now, the very question that follows this downfall spiral into maddening chaos,
Is it most beautiful before?
In a perfect solid piece, for if you look towards it in any direction,
It remains unflawed
Or afterwards?
When it's glowing pieces have fallen into a place that is perceived as imperfect.

But their is light shades of colors, that ricochet off its surrounding area
And a natural way every segment has found a comfortable place that is called home
it has a jagged part that glistens,
followed by curves and indents
It is a mountain chain of it's own race
It is rare

Reviews

[DoormanDan]

For a quick write down, this isn't half bad. It definitely needs some revision though, particularly with some of the content (I feel it could be a little more descriptive, as it's currently doing more telling than showing), and in the spelling/grammar department. Work on those, and you'll have something that more than reaches its full potential. :)

[Alejandra Marie]

I really like that this poem uses a simple theme such as ice. I really enjoyed the second stanza. But feels a bit incomplete. I think a great add to this poem is maybe contrast the fragility and beauty of ice that you describe well here with the strength and power it has. Just a suggestion.

Nice job!