They Say; A Poem

So, I am using this blog for it's original intended purpose at long last and I am now going to post up a poem - written by me, thus all copyrights and owner ships belong strictly to me and I shall be quite cross if I see it used without my written permission or without it being credited back to me, but now I am off the topic somewhat. So first, the poem, then the review of it shall follow afterward and I shall not spare myself some serious critique points simply because of 'self-esteem'. Otherwise, I'd be a poor excuse of a writer.

They Say

an original poem by Octavia

They say only fools rush in 
especially when concerning love. 
But we rush at each other all the time. 
We fling ourselves to the feet of others *
and some kiss the dirty toes of an 
imaginary friend called God. 
But then you pick it apart, 
the meaning of that quote and you *
start to ponder the true reality of it. 
Only fools rush in? We are all fools, 
even that person who wrote that saying. 
Foolishness, selfishness, hatred, love, *
lust, greed, gluttony, and impatience, 
these are all just parts of being human. 
If only fools rush in, then I want 
nothing more than to be that foretold 
fool. *

The first stanza (each stanza separated by a astrix and in case you don't speak poet, a stanza is every four lines or more) I think could've been written far better, personally. Then again, I am also considering the fact that I wrote this poem in a total of 7 minutes based off of that quote featured, 'Only fools rush in' by whoever it was who wrote the saying. The second stanza I could suppose to be biased and offensive, but considering I am atheist and so are most of my readers I don't really care if anyone gets upset over it - though I can see why they might, I just called the Christian religion's 'God' an imaginary friend. Third stanza, ugh, I hated this stanza the most out of all of them to be quite honest. I started out too powerful, I think, and I dwindled away into simple spitting of words and bad traits/qualities in a person. This stanza shows my weak point, I can start well and end well, but my details in between suffer most of the time into what I consider being the 'rice' of the meal that is my poetry. It's just a filler, a fake starch there to make you satisfied enough with pointlessness and such but in reality, it's noticeably weak and seriously needs improved. Then the last stanza, I feel the last sentence was very strong, 'I want nothing more than to be that foretold fool.' But I'll be blatantly honest with myself here, that last line doesn't redeem the filler B.S. that came before it, though it is good and blends well with the first two stanzas, that third stanza is just driving my Bananas, B-A-N-A-N-A-S.

Anyway, this was a review on my poem, albeit a short one but there you are. Please keep in touch for my next.