But instead I will write about me. It's 1010 today, so why not.
Open my eyes. It's morning again.
I look for my phone. No messages. Again.
Get up. Go to the bathroom, wash my...
"The writer's job is to get the main character (protagonist) up a tree, and then once they are up there, throw rocks at them"
"If you wait for inspiration; you're not a writer; you're a waiter."
Riveting revaluations, reality in the face
Lucid limitations, likely take their place
Confusing contemplations, can't decide my course, iridescent insanity, insistent on remorse...
The midnight sky rolls in quietly
Arms wrapped around myself I sit silently
Hoping and pleading to the soundless whispers
Destitute has its end…
A hero, knight, warrior of old...
Staring at the wall
Feeling so empty
No longer caring
The pills are gone
And so is a heart beat
I glide through your door like a thief in the night,
No need for alarm, no need to take flight,
I'm here just to watch an incredible sight,
A vision asleep in her bed.
Siren of the Deep
I find your footprints that lead this rocky shore. Scraps of your clothing tossed apart without sanity. Cold hearts of treason that runs amok. The pure madness...
Sometimes I am writing poems, but my speciality are novels (especially thrillers!) I am writing since my 8th age. I LOVE writing!
i need justice.
my minds needs hate to survive
my soul needs love to breed...
to breed what is left of it..
my love for her was an oasis,
that oasis became a mirage in the desert...
I found a couple of old poems tonight - this was written "for" my mother:
Fiery words shot across the room -
Bullets to the heart, bombs to the soul.
As the shrapnel settles and...
What can I do when the colors
Turn to grey
How can you be blinded by the hurtful things you say.
You don't see things as you should
Let the imagination run way off...
All of them are right in this link.... https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/41772759-my-poems
into my arms
like the caress
of a sultry moon
in the naked kiss
of a longing
into my arms
In all honesty, I have written eight poems and ten short stories. Go to writerscafe.org if you want to see them. I have written other things also.
shadow pastel movements
seeing you sleeping
move in beside you
hardly a sound
Racing through time
Has being an inevitable task
Aging with every second that passes
Hoping to get the best life has to offer
Before leaving it all behind
Mine has been no...
i write them yet have no clue what to do with them.....
Look, all my English teachers I had use to light up my papers in red ink! I've always hated the subject. However, I loved poetry. If you think my poems are fascinating here are...
Short sweet love poems...
A love poem will not always be long and flowery. Sometimes what you need to say can be very short. In fact it may be the poem´s shortness makes it...
Sorcery or Understanding?
If I only had a magic wand,
I'd wave it over me and far beyond,
To reach people of whom I'm fond,
And beggars, thieves and vagabonds.
If magic was the...
Roses are read
I ate to much food
Now I have to poo
Sometimes you are inspired to write things just because they are hard. One of my poems took three years to complete because of the complexity. I love twisting words with two or...
So hi. I'm not really going to share a poem today. I'm here to tell you about my love for poetry
It is not only a form literature
But also a source of happiness and pleasure
You gave me everything, but what I honestly needed.
You gave me everything, while my heart continued to bleed.
Love is not a tangible thing.
Love is sunny days and complicated ways...
Turned nineteen on September 21st
Got the rhythm in my head don't need to rehearse
Family says I'm blessed but I feel cursed
Life is a witch or Satan whichever comes first
Tell me all your secrets.
Show me where you keep them,
I will help you stay strong.
Want to have my babies?
Want to get married...?
Tell me where'd I go wrong?
Say things are...
Almost gone, almost done, almost 12 past 1, heart to heart, soul to soul, never to go, never to show, never to late, now I'm walking out of these gates, it's getting late, i have...
See the lonely girl,
Trying to pass the day,
hiding her tears behind her curls,
there isn't much to say,
may be she expects too much,
hw doesn't love her that way,
her tears roll...
You start imagining that the people inside your poems and stories are parts of you
That’s when you know that you’re alone, the first signs are always that you enjoy the words...