♥Life's Like A Wave♥

well just read it...lol...

Life is like a wave,
at first it is new and fun,
then it gradually fades and
falls apart.

You can ride that wave
but eventually you will come
to the breaking point.

As you find your self
under the water twirling
hitting the rocks at the
bottom.

You slowly begun to
pass out.

But eventually the deadly
water will wash you on
to the warm sand.

The rays of life hit you
square in the face and you start the cycle
all over again.

Author's Note

please read and leave a comment... :)

Reviews

[PaperHearts]

Nice poem! I really liked the concept behind this poem, as I thought it held a lot of wisdom and truth, as well as bringing a fresh perspective and original idea to an overly discussed topic. The simile that you used was definitely effective, and hit a nerve with me, not only because I was agreeing with what you were saying, but because I've grown up beside the beach, so the whole surfing/wave thing was something that I could relate with. :P The only issue that I had with this poem was that the flow never seemed that consistent, and I found that you were constantly changing tenses. However, that can totally be fixed with some solid proof-reading. Nice work,
~PaperHearts

[♥SunkissAngel♥]

thanks Rhiannon it means alot to me.. :)

[rhiannonskye36]

girl you definitely have so much talent. This poem is like really good and i can feel so much emotion throughout this.
Gooooog job!
-rhiannon.(:

[♥SunkissAngel♥]

nice poem and thanks for reviewing..

[ThisLullaby]

i love the last two stanzas, but you seem to be having a little bit of trouble getting your poem to flow. its a beautiful idea and i really like the ending.

you reviewed one of my poems, and asked me to check out your stuff, so i am doing so. please feel free to read and review any of my writing.
i dont want to post this on writerscafe, but i feel the need to share it with someone.

Poetry is organized torture
Forcing the victim to sit and write
Words for others to construe.
It takes effort to get it down
Bleed it out on paper,
Not point blank and not forthright
Hidden memories and unidentified pains
Screaming out loud
From the folds of the words,
Poetry is organized torture.

A thick paste of blood and pain,
A dizzying world and a warm thin water,
Suddenly ice cold.
Dive in.
Poetry is organized torture.