Gwaihir Posted October 29, 2001 Report Posted October 29, 2001 There's no honour for a sniper, They never decorate a spy. Hell! Someone could at least say thanks. Just ten minutes of public praise... It isn’t that I don't deserve. Maybe because, they just don't know How much I like my blood and sweat, How much I hate my work sometimes? Scratch that, it’s clear they see somewhat- I insist on large recompense. No, it's because they feel ashamed, An upright citizen wouldn’t ask my help. But, I don't mind it anymore. If you need me search the shadows.
Tanuchan Posted December 27, 2004 Report Posted December 27, 2004 I liked this poem. In my opinion, it gives a good glimpse of what goes on in the mind of those who must work in the shadows, never allowed to show themselves as they are. It conveys well a feeling of increasing frustration, giving also a hint of fears and doubts. At the end, I can see him/her shrugging, sighing, and accepting once again their role even if still frustrated. A counterpoint to all the glamour we seem to associate to the 'job' of a spy The only small things that made me wonder were in these two lines: "It isn’t that I don't deserve. Maybe because, they just don't know " It seems to me that there's a missing object at the end of first mentioned line (deserve what? The praise?), and the comma in the next seems unnecessary. But that may be just me, and the way I tend to write/see things In the whole, a poem that I think tells a whole story in just a few lines. Thanks for that, Gwai.
SoaringIcarus Posted January 1, 2005 Report Posted January 1, 2005 There's no honour for a sniper, They never decorate a spy. Hell! Someone could at least say thanks. Just ten minutes of public praise... Ok so you're introducing a schism (I love that word) in the rhyme scheme from the beginning by leaving the last line of this stanza short a syllable or two, it's mildly jarring. It isn’t that I don't deserve. Maybe because, they just don't know Here it's more obvious. "I don't deserve __(enormous lack of a noun)__" Otherwise you would have said "It's not because I don't deserve it" or "It isn't because I'm not deserving", right? I'm not sure how much of a hair-cut this poem has gotten to fit the rhyme. How much I like my blood and sweat, How much I hate my work sometimes? I like this, it's honest, and makes me shrink, not being able to give you an answer. Scratch that,I almost want this line to have it's own stanza... it’s clear they see somewhat- I insist on large recompense. No, it's because they feel ashamed, An upright citizen wouldn’t ask my help. But, I don't mind it anymore. If you need me search the shadows. Last two stanzi-- appologetic? MAN! Makes me angry for you. An appologist, just when you got the guts to say that you deserve more than you're getting. Interesting poem, it's like an itch I can't find. Nice to read you again. -Icarus
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