Critique? It's a poem that I can't seem to be satisfied with.

I dunno...I just can't bring myself to really like this...

It just doesn't seem to put forth enough flow and emotion.

I can hear it well, but just reading through it as any other person would, Im not all that satisfied with it.

But, of course, here it is anyway. Maybe you can tell me what you think.

I'll Follow You

A sweet breeze through my head
A thought whisps by before falling dead
Hands together, we walk
Between the towering stalks
And after floating above the leaves
Over now, passing you,
And the image in the chalk

---

Whispers turn to tears,
Tears falling out of our fears,
Fears grow to a... quiet rage...

I'll follow you til I die,
Til our worlds collide,
I'll be the whisper in your head...
Be dreaming out all day,
When fine'ly your feet away,
And it leads you... back to bed...

---

Through the park
We used to dance and play,
All the birds fly away,
Now all at once they return...
With letters tied to their feet,
At every building and street,
My words will follow you...

Whispers turn to tears,
Tears falling out from our fears,
Fears grow to a... quiet rage...

Anger boils inside,
Be everything that you hide,
Keep it hidden beneath a... little bird cage...

And when I ask what's around,
That little birdie will sound,
On my own, I have to find...you again...

I'll follow you til I die,
Til our worlds collide,
I'll be the whisper in your head...
Be dreaming out all day,
When fine'ly your feet away,
And it leads you... back to bed...

---

And I know
It was me that placed this burden
Why not open up, and let it...fly away...

But you won't...

And when I ask what's around,
That little birdie will sound,
And on my own, I'll follow you again...

On my own, I'll follow you again,
And I'll lead you...back to bed...



...It's that first stanza...I think that's part of what's killing it.