A piece of last friday is stuck in my throat
the words, the day, everything
I can't seem to get past it
laid out and ripped open
I was a cadaver only I was still breathing
the eyes of so many seeing so far inside me
and then all the laughter
the jackels came
greedy to feed on me
and wallow in my wounds
tearing me to shreds
the look on your face
a sickly contented smile
a sneer
as if some great feat of a hero had been acomplished
only the kiss of a coward really
that's what you gave me
in some twisted thought
concieved in some dark hallow
you contemplated my ruin
hoping that I would fall dead into the dust
that my voice would be stilled and silenced
but from the ash that burnt around me
I will rise again
stronger than before

Depressing and the poem does not go anywhere. You don't really explain why you feel this way. 25 lines of crap! I know it harsh, but if you're going to write about feeling like shit be creative about it. Compare your poem to the rest on this site and you'll see that the majority write the same thing. Come on, no likes reading this stuff. Write it in a way that no one has before and you'll appreciate how poetry is an art. Sorry.
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The first line is good though..."A piece of last friday is stuck in my throat".....that's a great start
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hmmmmmm......let's take a look at this "25 lines of crap" as you so eloquently put it.
There are two main people involved here. One is bent on the distruction and ruin of the other.
The jackels refer to the kinds of people who love to watch and join in when someone is being destroyed.
In this case, with words.
They often cut deeper and are more distructive than physical blows.
But at the very end, the truth stands clear, that the intent would not suceed. And the person would rise, stronger inspite of what happened.
What brought this event about was not needed to be expounded on.
It was not was was stuck in the throat.
As far as the rest of the poetry on this site being much the same, depressing and not going anywhere, much of the best poetry and art is often birthed out of experiences that are often painful and life effecting.
By the way, I wasn't writing about feeling like shit.
If I had wanted to write about feeling like shit, I would have done so.
I do appreciate your comments, but find very little in the way of anything helpful in what you wrote.

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And that's called "layin' the smack-down!" (Applause here.) I did not think the poem was 25 lines of crap, and I'd like to know who it was that did so I can see his or her 25 lines of brilliance.
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Thank you. Come to think of it, Van Gogh's work was called crap too by some critic once, so I guess we who write poetry on this site that this person would classify as crap are in pretty good company eh?
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Okay, whoever wrote the "25 lines of crap" comment, lets see your poems? A poet I know once wrote a poem about other peoples' poems. It is called "Show me your poems" I can't quote but he makes the point that the poems people show him may not move or excite him in the slightest but that does not take away from the fact that it is their poem, their thoughts and their lives they are writing about in order to "entertain" as it were. So have some respect. By all means criticise constructively, thats the point of the site, but "25 lines of crap?" How useful is that?