Sundays turn into Seattle

[Jukon]

It was the usual Sunday morning,
forced out of bed;
the birds reset the alarm clock.
No breakfast again.
So I feed off the bread crumbs
that she left behind.

The smell of cigarettes
and regret hits me
like a ton of bricks.
black static inherits the
thoughts I threw away
yesterday

A simple trail,
took me to Seattle
where it's never dry.
rain that'll wash the pain
down the drains,
but the puddles never leave.

They over stay their welcome,
just as I.
I search for her heart,
listen for the familiar rhythm.
I'm lost in the pavement,
taking steps I've seen by others.
They seem to have it down,
left, right, forward- stop.
Intersecting lives
run parallel with iridescent lies.

They seem bright- colorful
at a glance, but when you squint
all you see is a dark hue
of sorrow.
and that is what paints your path.

[lostinlove]

Honestly, I wish there was more. It made a lot of sense to me, I was just confused by the 'birds reset my alarm' part, I don't know why it did but it did. And I loved the 'All you see is a dark hue of sorrow' part.

[spokenoh]

Worst thing about this poetry dryspell is that pieces like this get no attention.
I'm not going to break things down - that's unnecessary - but I would suggest that you maybe rework a couple of different endings to it. Expanding it also wouldn't hurt, but you should be careful not to dillute it or anything like that. Really, I consider this to be published quality in its punctuality, diction, and execution. I would encourage you to look into getting it published after some minor additions.

[Jukon]

Appreciated man

[MADDNES53]

See below.

[MADDNES53]

I liked this. It was good.

Things I liked:
1) It was personal
2) It was unique
3) It spoke about a specific place (Seattle)

See below for comments in BOLD

It was the usual Sunday morning,
forced out of bed;
the birds reset the alarm clock.
No breakfast again.
So I feed off the bread crumbs
that she left behind.

The smell of cigarettes
and regret hits me
like a ton of bricks.
black static inherits the
thoughts I threw away
yesterday

A simple trail,
took me to Seattle
where it's never dry.
rain that'll wash the pain
down the drains,
but the puddles never leave.

They over stay their welcome, I feel like this line needs to be stronger
just as I.
I search for her heart,
listen for the familiar rhythm.
I'm lost in the pavement,
taking steps I've seen by others.
They seem to have it down,
left, right, forward- stop. What does this add to the poem?
Intersecting lives
run parallel with iridescent lies. The word iridescent has no feeling. It is too smart-no heart.

They seem bright- colorful
at a glance, but when you squint
all you see is a dark hue
of sorrow.
and that is what paints your path.

Nice ending. Strong Finish.

[Spoken Deity]

this was cool.
There were moments were the language needs reworking-

They over stay their welcome,
just as I.
I search for her heart,
listen for the familiar rhythm.

Why throw off your sentence and a read that seems so organic and natural? I know we want to go all Yoda sometimes, but it's only helpful with a certain ethos. I dont think you have it in this. It's too natural, which is GREAT.

I think the ending is a little... meh? Kind doesn't bring you anywhere. I think about repetition, bringing the opening stanza back into it somehow. I'd draw this thing out a little. I'd try to add a bit more and really give the story a stronger bite at the end. Take it somewhere because the entire concept is fucking dope.

Good luck, rtf if you can.

[Madbeats]

One of the best I have read. You got a great talent here.