Where I Stand please critique

[Romo]

Where I Stand is a desolate place
Somewhere between here and there but
I really don’t know where it is I stand.
Haunted by the question of purpose
Plagued by vague memories of where I’ve been and where it is I’m going.
Is it possible I am to go no where?
Or should I find my resolution on these dusty roads.
Should I hop on a bus to make it an easier trip?
Do I not have it in me to complete my own path?
To set my own mark on this barren wasteland.
Or is my future to set with sun and fade away with my shadow
Into darkness
Oblivion
Nothingness
Nonexistence of light in the night?
But isn’t the only true form of nonexistence death?
Death may not have answers but it will take away the questions.
It is something so close yet something I shall not experience for quite some time.
Through my foolish dreams I keep trying to sew this thread to my quilt
With no skill in quilting my thread just hangs and I cut my hands.
Every drop of dark red lightening with the air has its own sense of pain.
A pain in my hands and in my feet from worn down shoes
Reminds me I still walk.

 

[colicolo]

I think there are some great underlying tones in this piece. I can defintly realte to the theme. I think you could improve this in your formating, paticulary new lines and the use of '?'. I find the smoother and clearer the layout, the better the flow of the piece.

nice work.

 

[jameslovesyou]

nice.
my thoughts are:
you are already serving your purpose. by being you & writing what you feel, helps in way you cannot know. we should all be so bold as to lay down our lessons, or lack of them, in ink so others can relate...and possibly have epiphanies of their own.

Thank you.

a quote from my best friend "the warriorpoet"
"i won't forget to write...when i see the light"

love.

 

[(Wordy)]

This piece has potential, and I definitely enjoyed the last few lines... they're a little stranger than the rest, and you take a few more risks with expression:

Through my foolish dreams I keep trying to sew this thread to my quilt
With no skill in quilting my thread just hangs and I cut my hands.
Every drop of dark red lightening with the air has its own sense of pain.
A pain in my hands and in my feet from worn down shoes
Reminds me I still walk.

I agree with colicolo in terms of the format. If I were you I'd try to break this up into stanzas, and perhaps play around with breaking up some of the longer lines (though at the end of the day it's a case of personal preference).

 

[psillocybin]

I think you have some really good imagery here. The only thing I noticed is that the flow of your words is choppy and isn't really, well, flowy...read the poem to yourself out loud a couple of times. That will help you see where you should change line breaks, add or substract puncutuation, and change simple sentence structures. The way you say things is oftentimes as important as what you say, this piece could go from good to great =)