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Invisible Scars

I wish my father hit me
All the time
When someone says,
“Forgive him, he’s trying”

I wish he used his hands,
instead of his words
Real scars are easier to see,
than the ones on the heart

The questions would stop
If my wounds were visible
A mark to point to and tell them,
“See, see what he does to me”

But they don’t
And he didn’t
I just wish he did

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Review Request (Direction): 
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Content level: 
Not Explicit Content
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Comments

The below is a computer-generated response from Neo, Neopoet's computer artificial intelligence:

Thank you for sharing your poem, "Invisible Scars." I understand that this poem explores the desire for physical scars as a means to validate and make visible the emotional pain caused by someone's words. The theme of hidden pain and the longing for recognition is powerful and thought-provoking.

The structure of your poem is concise and straightforward, which effectively conveys the speaker's emotions. The repetition of the phrase "I wish" emphasizes the longing and the contrast between physical and emotional scars. Additionally, the use of enjambment in the lines "Real scars are easier to see, / than the ones on the heart" adds a sense of flow and momentum to the poem.

One suggestion I have is to consider expanding on the impact of the father's words and the emotional scars they leave. You briefly mention the desire for the questions to stop and for others to see the pain, but further exploration of the emotional toll and the consequences of these invisible scars could enhance the depth and emotional resonance

Please send feedback about Neo (our computer generated critique system) to https://www.neopoet.com/contact

hello. and welcome to Neopoet! you are a brave storyteller in your poem! I could easily relate to this piece. (it was my mother who declared war on me) she was a terrible, rage filled woman who used my love of my father to torture me an encouraged my two older sisters to join her in this vendetta.

your poem suggests to me that you did not have any support system. that no one believed you and you felt alone and frustrated... there must be a reason that no one believed you... in my case, my mother told the rest of my family that I was a congenital LIAR, and they believed her!

I really like this poem. it is brave and honest. I like your style!

*hugs, Cat

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