I still write a lot of novels, stories and other kinds of writing. I used to always write poetry. Every day. But I was very young and when I posted my poetry on sites like Booksie...
a metallic smell rampaged
through the quiet hall;
downstairs a cry slaughtered the air,
electric eyes rolled back a form of white.
They rushed the day in pairs,
It's been a very long time since I've written any poetry and it wasn't that great, in my opinion. The poem I'm about to share was written a good 5+ years ago. It was my last and...
I haven't written anything for years, but I used to write quite a lot of poetry
A child of the Holocaust
I used to play in the front garden
Mimicking the bumblebees
Skinning my knees
And making mud pies with my sister
We’d laugh and fight and dig...
Well, basically I decided I need to write. Plain and simple.. So write away I will...
I guess some where along the journey I lost sight of the fact that for the longest time I...
I often try to write my thoughts
I do that all the time.
And in the course of doing that,
I often make them rhyme.
The format used don’t matter much,
I once heard a soundIt came as quick as the nightSunset down behind the lightAnd there I found something not rightA heartA beatLaying beside my feetI saw a chance to fix it upTo...
I'm sitting on the bench of life,
Watching it all go by,
No significance to others,
Just a bench warmer.
Used until I'm no longer needed,
"We've all been there, honey."
On the tile floor of your bathroom, broken down crying, slit wrists bleeding out your pain, your head between your knees begging "God, please...
"Sinner, Sinner, I Don't Miss You"
Supposed to be
Who would save me.
Don't you see
The scars I left
Upon my heart?
Sweet perfection beating in my chest
A modesty so pure and true
I want to kiss you under the sheets and tell you that you're beautiful to me.
I dream about your midnight eyes...
Above the scarlet oceans,
above the crimson sands,
I stand high upon divinity,
and witness the fate of tortured lands.
Fires burning to the West,
heaped bodies to the East,
Ladder of Dope
Its every person for himself, step on &step up kind of world.
Thats what we are are taught, at the thought our lips become curled.
At first until it hurts, until...
She believed in right and wrong
Yeah she stayed strong
She used to have chats with her brain
Nah she wasn't insane
She created her own site
Replaced the blackness with white
Sitting in my bed kinda sick thinking about the things I usually avoid thinking about like life, death , and what comes after I almost see fire in my future chapter .
In a sense I...
Wingless bird i give to you my secrets to be free from this world.
I can not grant you the freedom you deserve.
For i am a mere mortal with limits and concerns.
I get it.
You love her.
You are still my best friend.
You always made me feel I was important.
Even if I couldn't help you at the task.
And now I see you with her.
Buffalo Bill is dead
Who used to shoot pigons
I'm doing it. I am writing a novel.
I have long loved the beauty of the written word, but in high school I started leaning towards visual art, and from college to career have...
Isn't it wonderful what some people can do? I had a grandmother who could play music by ear on several instruments but couldn't read a note. Apparently there were several in her...
I think i should rather write that i try to tame this wild, dark, bitter inner "friend" of mine. I feel like everything i do is pointless and all that i am is worthless, there's...
Hey. If anyone shares the same interests that i'm about to post about, feel free to talk to me. :)
1. My name is LisaMarie - but people usually just call me Lisa instead.