My Critique Poem by Abdulhakim Haliru

My Critique

Rating: 5.0

Split between two,
I yearn for you to understand,
Yet you paint my imperfection
Making a jest of my imperfection.

My pain so so immense
Reminiscent of your joy
My plea for pardon only strike the deaf side of you
Does your ken unveil my morrow?
When my imperfection yield perfection?
When you hold a blunt knife?

You call my err blunt
And your err oversight
With my wet eyes, seeking your consciousness
Yet it is me you paint.

O you of little ken
Spare me some air
Behold I change my colour.


There is a feeling of piety and shamanism in this one..... Hmmm, to be special: that's the nature of society? Unfortunately no, but this is truly an amazing effort! Top marks!

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Elysabeth Faslund 24 June 2007

Oh yes! I do like this! the useage of that word. Telling the imperfections of others is only showing the imperfection of insight from whence it came! ! You can tell the world that one. Indeed, a good write! ! xxElysabeth

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Meggie Gultiano 24 June 2007

you dont have to see the outside to be able to see the reality. What matters most is the heart, your inner beauty.Your poem clearly depicts some of the negative aspect of a person..Oh, if only he/she can see your heart and go deeper. We need to understand, to be able to love..we need to be is the short cut to heaven.It's a very sad poem, but it echoed the deepest wall in my're great!

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