classmate response #1 make-up (week of January 16)

Here is a poem by our very own Hannah Ross. Let's see what I think:

ScizoThe life she leads is not so normal
She goes by her day like others
Waiting for doctors to call
With results she dreads to hear

The psychologist wants her to come in
Another session of talking and unanswered questions
Instead she lies

She attends school like the others
Trying to concentrate on the professors lesson
But instead thew radio in her head erupts
Voices fill the space
Cluttering her already muddled mind

Sometimes its only a few voices
Easy to distinguish
Others its a cacophony, like an untuned radio
It becomes hard to concentrate
With all the conversations, singing, and bickering
Taking her attention over
They fall silent, as soon as they came

She attempts to keep herself busy
To keep the voices at bay
It only works for so long
The voices return, never ceasing their constant bombardment
There are only four

Four that are themselves, could be real
Three are females, one male
The boy can control her, take over her actions
It scares her, he only does it when he is angry
Which is not too often, luckily
The girls are nicer, they like to converse
And show me many things
It is always what she can only see
She knows it is not real
But it is hard not to fall into their reality

She is never truely alone
They come when they wish
Or when she is upset and lonely
They keep her company as she sleeps
Someday she will have a husband
What shall she do then?

Well, this poem is all over interesting. I really like the line "Others its a cacophony", but in stanzas three and four a radio is mentioned. Maybe try to use another image in at least one of those instants. Also in stanza four the phrase "untuned radio" is used, I think another word besides untuned would work better in this piece. The line I like the most is "The voices return, never ceasing their constant bombardment". In stanza six, it changes from third person to first person and back again. The way some stanzas contain more like and how some lines are longer than others fits this poem well. The poem is about not knowing when voices come and go, and the the way some things are longer is a visual to that concept.