Can you rate this poem? Im 14?

Question

Its about the goverment, even though I love our Government, this is the Goverment in most peoples eyes, what they think of Bush the War ect. (it might not make much sense but "the eyes" is a metaphor)

The Eyes

I see your eyes, they mesmerize,

I watch the blood trickle down the floor,

I look around and realize

I want an end to this sadistic, masochistic War!

The walls have eyes they hypnotize,

I wish I had know this all before,

You take a life, a family cries,

Your eyes have forgotten, rotten to the Core!

The eyes have all control,

The eyes honestly deceive,

The eyes of a broken soul,

What a tangled web the eyes weave!

The eyes are so cold as they stare,

The eyes watch me as I breathe,

The eye don’t seem to really care,

The eyes are a apparent, transparent sieve!

The eyes to me are ever so dead

The eyes to me are an illusion,

The eyes have us all misled,

The eyes are a pained, bloodstained delusion!

The eyes have all control,

The eyes honestly deceive,

The eyes of a broken soul,

What a tangled web the eyes weave!

Answer 1

I am impressed.

The eyes say it all hands down..

I will look forward to seeing more from your pen.

Answer 2

It is good to see someone your age who understands poetry and metaphor. Keep writing poetry; your talent is obvious.

Answer 3

Its very good and potently written, it makes one wonder what or whom inspired it ... well done.

Answer 4

Very good. We use Sir Walter Scott's "Tangled Web" metaphor in the title of our book, "Oh, What a Tangled Web, Poetry of the Internet." Check out the links in my bio. You could be in one of those books. (Well, if you're really 14, your parents would have to sign the contract.)

Have you read Marmion, by Sir Walter Scott?

*****

Marmion

by Sir Walter Scott

(A Tale of Flodden Field)

Day set on Norham's castled steep,

And Tweed's fair river, broad and deep,

And Cheviot's mountains lone:

The battled towers, the donjon keep,

The loophole grates, where captives weep,

The flanking walls that round it sweep,

In yellow lustre shone.

The warriors on the turrets high,

Moving athwart the evening sky,

Seemed forms of giant height:

Their armour, as it caught the rays,

Flashed back again the western blaze,

In lines of dazzling light.

Nought say I here of Sister Clare,

Save this, that she was young and fair;

As yet a novice unprofessed,

Lovely and gentle, but distressed.

She was betrothed to one now dead,

Or worse, who had dishonoured fled.

Her kinsmen bid her give her hand

To one who loved her for her land:

Herself, almost heart-broken now,

Was bent to take the vestal vow,

And shroud within Saint Hilda's gloom,

Her blasted hopes and withered bloom.

Lovely, and gentle, and distressed-

These charms might tame the fiercest breast.

Harpers have sung, and poets told,

That he, in fury uncontrolled,

The shaggy monarch of the wood,

Before a virgin, fair and good,

Hath pacified his savage mood.

But passions in the human frame,

Oft put the lion's rage to shame:

And jealousy, by dark intrigue,

With sordid avarice in league,

Had practiced with their bowl and knife

Against the mourner's harmless life.

This crime was charged 'gainst those who lay

Prisoned in Cuthbert's islet grey.

And while the king his hand did strain,

The old man's tears fell down like rain.

To seize the moment Marmion tried,

And whispered to the king aside:

"Oh, let such tears unwonted plead

For respite short from dubious deed!

A child will weep a bramble's smart,

A maid to see her sparrow part,

A stripling for a woman's heart:

But woe awaits a country when

She sees the tears of bearded men.

Then, oh! what omen dark and high,

When Douglas wets his manly eye!"

O, what a tangled web we weave,

When first we practice to deceive!

A Palmer too! - no wonder why

I felt rebuked beneath his eye:

I might have known there was but one,

Whose look could quell Lord Marmion."

O, woman in our hours of ease,

Uncertain, coy and hard to please,

And variable as the shade

By the light quivering aspen made;

When pain and anguish wring the brow,

A ministering angel thou!

*****

Answer 5

i likedd ittt(:

tell me what you thinkof the poem in my latest question. my sister wrote a peom and asked me to ask people. she keeps naggin me. haha.

pleaseee and thank you(:

and your peom is gooddddd(: