Rat Races

[Robbie Reaper]

It's been a while. I'll be on and off sporadically, I guess. Until I come up with poems worthy of sharing.

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Hurriedly hurriedly,
Rapidly, fasterly,
Quicker pulses run high.
Salt lingers where tears dry.
Weeds sprawl when left to grow;
Vines catch in crooks of toes.
Seasons always conspire,
Never outrun the fire.

I agree. The word "fasterly" should not have been used while you were writing this composition. I understand that you were trying to have four words have the "ly" suffix. (Which is creative in a way, and a bit of a challenge). But you should never make up a word to do so. (It takes away credibility from the poem, and besides, it's a cheap shortcut). As for the rest of the poem, it's decent enough.

-Robbie Reaper