From: Zion, IL, USA
|The memories beckon me to descend the tick tocking ladder.
A refuge from the world, was I ever alone.
Steel walls and shadows from a windowpane in the sky.
He descended with a shout, arms raised high.
I cried, I saw it take place,
the look on my face, the regiments in line.
they just don't see the sign.
There is work to be done,
so I must put away the days of yesteryear
for they are filled with holes and twisted imaginations,
dreams and schemes.
What really took place all those days of death and despair.
I'm now free from the bondage,
to create and relate the essence of a God forgotten.
Uncared for they march in line,
They just don't see the sign,
To the Romans Road.
From: Vermont, USA
|Your poetry is good, but it would be better with more sturcture.
If you have a consistant rhyme scheme and meter then the poem is much easier and pleasureful to read. Yes, it is harder, but it is much better.
At least this is my opinion.