Your poem is attached. The first stanza, severely edited, is a great beginning. The last, again edited, works. Your issues are all in between, especially the lines in red which are not poetic and abstract. The metaphor of depression or any other emotional state as a beast on the shoulder is fine, but the physical details of that beast have to be applicable to the emotional state you wish to particularize. You can't give it talons and other parts without making those aspects part of the particular emotional state--in other words, extending the metaphor in all the different ways this beast corresponds to the emotion that is your burden. (how does "robbed" fit the metaphor?)Instead you use your poem to refer vaguely to different periods in your life when the beast makes its appearance. Vaguely, because there are only generalizations, not specifics. You don't say "when my mother left" or "when I had my bike stolen" or "when the Twin Towers fell." Is the depression about personal or public events? But actually, I want to know that less than to see the beast you invent have physical characteristics that enanable the reader to understand the equation of beast=depression. You need to look at Tyger Tyger by Blake and the story of Sinbad the Sailor and the Old Man he is forced to carry on his back. And if you have not purchased the Workbook and the Drake text, you have done yourself a disservice". Professors comments.
The Great Winged Beast
As far back in time as I can
Remember
This great winged beast
has been a part
of my existence
From time to time
it has visited me.
Suddenly appearing
To land
Upon my shoulders
Weighing me down
Perhaps that’s why
when people told me
throughout out my youth
“Don’t slouch”
I couldn’t obey them
Making me seem to others
A crooked, burdened old man
It would return
to sit upon my back
Holding me down,
Robbing me
of my energy and virility
When I needed to rise and be an
Active participant
in the goings on of life
The years pass, and it comes
to rest again
Beside me
Its talons ripping at my legs,
Tripping me
Causing me to stumble
On the already
Murky and obscure path
Of my life
The great winged beast
Used to come when
I was the most vulnerable
Snatching me away
To carry me
far away
From my chance
at bliss
To drop me into
An abysmal hole
Where I would spend
What seemed
Eternities
Crawling and scrabbling
My way back
up and out
The great winged beast
Would appear
At the worst of times
Ripping me out of
My blissful ignorance
To deposit me atop some
Desolate mountain
Where I would sacrifice
Epochs,
carefully and deliberately
Finding my way
down and home.
The next time
the great winged beast
Comes
I will finally
succumb
to its
Power
Over
Me.
I will not fight,
I will not struggle
To whatever hell
It places me
I will unresistingly remain
Alone and inconsolable
The Great Winged Beast
As far back in time as I can remember
This great winged beast
Would suddenly appear
To land upon my shoulders
“Don’t slouch”
I couldn’t obey, his weight made me crooked
A burdened old man
It would return
to sit upon my back
Holding me down,
Robbing me
of my energy and virility
When I needed to rise and be an
Active participant
in the goings on of life
The years pass, and it comes
to rest again
Beside me
Its talons ripping at my legs,
Tripping me
Causing me to stumble
On the already
Murky and obscure path
Of my life
The great winged beast
Used to come when
I was the most vulnerable
Snatching me away
To carry me
far away
From my chance
at bliss
To drop me into
An abysmal hole
Where I would spend
What seemed
Eternities
Crawling and scrabbling
My way back
up and out
The great winged beast
Would appear
At the worst of times
Ripping me out of
My blissful ignorance
To deposit me atop some
Desolate mountain
Where I would sacrifice
Epochs,
carefully and deliberately
Finding my way
down and home.
The next time
the great winged beast
Comes
I will
finally
succumb
My poem is first. The professor's revised edition is second.
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