I took a creative writing class in college. I can't remember now if I took it because I thought it would be a "bunny" class or if it was required for my Early Childhood Education...
An old man sits upon a well,
Reminiscing days of hell.
And in the sun that starts to rise,
He leaves the world in great surprise.
As he slips into the deep,
Starting with his own...
The empty indigo of the evening falls on the wet green
earth and my heart sighs.
The blinding white day was filled with feverish red
activity and nothing was finished.
The navy of...
cold obsidian sky
rustle the dead leaves
I’m stuck somehow
isolation wraps around
compacting the crowd
I’m stuck somewhere
in the middle.
The beating heart grew louder with each day's passing,
The blood flowed freely in my thoughts,
Silent whispers breathing new life into my veins,
Searching but never finding...
Thoughtsinvisible fingers clasp my headoh they things they said, the THINGS they said!answers I so desperately seekchurn and burn and grind my souloscillating, spinning beyond my...
You is you.
Everyone else is taken.
There is no right or wrong, just what others tell you.
Do and believe what you think is right.
Until you die.
That's what a right thing is...
Not novels really more just poems and short stories I've tried a few longer almost novel like stories but to no avail.
I can nearly hear the unicorns screaming
Shattered rainbows and darkened skies
Here's a poem i made up on the spot. Is it any good? Is it worth reading? Well i will let you all decide that for yourselves. Anyway, here's the poem and i call it:
You don't harbour my love anymore
My heart is lost in the storm
Baby let me come back home
I'm lost alone in the cold
I've never felt more at home in your arms
I've never felt...
The days go by
I'm running out of time
My dreams fly away
Where they never stay
My heart hates the pain
It's like I've become insane
The blood on my arm
Represents the harm
You excite me
Because I excite you
You hide behind your ego
You say to yourself
I won't invest until she confess
You draw me into your energy
with a pull so...
Working hard at hardly working,
Alas I can't abide the shirking.
Oh that I could be so lazy,
sitting idle like a daisy
but the tedium drives me crazy ~^.^~
She stopped looking both ways
Before crossing the street
She stopped telling you where she wanted to go
And instead went wherever anyone else went
She stopped counting the pills...
Our life’s events are written down
In the Journals of our mind.
We write about the loves we’ve lost
And those we hope to find.
We write about our hopes and fears
Breaking My Bad:
A world of hurt surrounds me,
but I no longer feel its pain,
my words in composition struggle to feed my brain.
Why is it I...
I know this might seem obvious already, but I love poetry. It's one of the few forms of writing that I enjoy writing over reading. I used to do it as a kid, write out little rhymes...
The silent sadness bites and claws and longs to eat you up
It crouches in shadows of darkened halls and fills you like a cup
Emotions sear the flesh too raw, too...
I usually don't like poetry because people who write it sounds stupid to me sometimes. Saying **** like "the wind was just an echo from my soul" that kinda poetry ****** me off...
there in your midnight afterlight
there in the stillness of your nearness
you softly took my hand and shook loose yesterdays dream
you found me in every way...
Slowly to reveal
Wide and broken
Lids to heal
And it bears sadness
It gates off love
Where is she now
The one I loved
Heavy flickering lashes
Whips at my heart...
I write down how i feel about you and crumble the page
she's gone now so shouldn't i erase?
How i feel inside?
Take apart what makes up my heart and cast it aside?
(To speak of regret, to let my demons free.)
All I recall is vague mist in memory
I can bring to focus only tattered remnants.
A desperate sadness in the core of me...
I don't claim to be a poet, though I sometimes write poetry, albeit poorly. I write what happens to be in, or pouring from, my heart and soul. This is for, to, and about, my best...
-- Untitled Sad Poem --
Do you ever feel alone?
No one knows the real me.
Do I care? Yes.
Do I care? No.
Caring exists not in the mind maybe?
On the best days you mean nothing;
Feeling charitable, for you I'm sad;
But on the days I love you
The hatred drives me mad.
My heart on EP
My heart has felt many emotions in such little time
I'll try to put it in a poem and see if it will rhyme.
Looking for attention is what I first came to seek
Stretch a smile.
This time you were so close.
You missed a sign.
A memory that lost track of time.
And now your waiting in your blue shoes.
You didn't know what to say.