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THE CREATOR'S DARKNESS
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Snow We take it for granted Simple yet complex Small yet big Snow White as a new beginning New yet old Soft as a light kiss Hard as the nights grow cold Snow
What is time ? A thing we created Time is Timeless Or Can time really run us short ? They say Time heals all Well time will tell Time is a virtue Time is a Spell Casted out to us all
Stereotypical Dear stereotypical society These words and phrases ring in my head
I can take your pain away; wish that you could always stay, but how selfish would it be forever innocent with me? Let's go back to a good day; we could wait right here and play.
My paper room and my fan I came the other day the carpet has grown to feet tall my bed a nest I'll lay My paper room and my fan the walls from green to red a smooth ceiling Ive seen birds fly
I sat like a pigeon with a brain, Curiously wondering about visuals that retain, I spoke no words nor committed deeds; It was all meaningless,
Can I…. No Oh what about… No But wait I didn’t get to fini-.....What I say? No
i read this somewherei have a thousand things to tell youand thousands reasons not tothat really hit home
The deadly silence beckons me Total darkness is surrounding me How can I escape this hell? The silence gets louder and louder The box is getting smaller and smaller Let it go Scream it out
She woke up late, in a place she did not know. Her eyes opened to an empty sky. All she felt was melting snow. She felt she would soon die. Her fragile head turned left, she couldn’t even sigh...
I would never believe that the first thing I thought about you Was in fact The only thing I now think about you. You used to roll your index finger, Slowly, Definitely at me, Almost saying,
You rip off your clothes and he tears off his. Wait. Come back you’re going too far. See my clothes are my inner feelings and things I cannot express.
“Make me Suffer with Things I'd Rather” Oh, chop me in thirds, rather than rid me of my triumphs, With the sharpest and evilist weapon you own;
Dear Best Friend, We started so many years ago when methods of communication were slow. In the neighborhood we ran and played oh so freely, day by day actually, weekly.
when he walks into the room, there is no room, only people there are no people, only faces and names only voices and thoughts his nonexistent pen glides across the convolutions of his brain
Light, Dense, To my defense, He was sweet like a sugar crystal. Cut, Cubed, Too Misconstrued,
I used to be scared of love, because I was never taught well. I have seen the painful kind of love that breaks your bones, and keeps the door locked, and it's hard for me to remember the last time my mother smiled,
This world is inhibited with cruelty and vengeance Where they gather today to reside the reminiscence. We are our own oblivion, shattering ourselves with the knowledge of nothingness. Death awaits-
Growing up on Dragon Ball Z and on it's only a fairy tale and bro look at that weirdo why's he running like that Maybe it's the spinach I ate or the Pop I drank but we're on another level
Words have power A word can be the end all Of an entire relationship Once words are spoken, They are no longer yours
I dream of you perhaps Falling in love with the broken Patterns of lines and words That I deem "poetry" For if you love what I can form I could use it to show you The irregular patterns
Freedom is bondage here America is supposed to the the land of freedom for every man and woman That is a lie Freedom is for the caucasian male here being the dominant race.
Call it mental health call it society call it thiers no more left in me call it sadness call it weakness call it my own dissapointment call it vauge, call me bare and empty tell me i threw in the towel to early tell me a bible verese lift me up s
Go to college, go to college Earn your degree. This will solve all your problems Just go earn your degree. Don't worry about money, don't worry about nothing Just earn your degree, just earn your degree
He asked me if I was ready Explained that he'll take it steady If only my brain could help me What he had pocketed was sinister as a knife Maybe I just shouldn't have spent the night
They speak in broken English and they lie with silver tongues, They swallow down old whiskey and they smoke away their lungs. They cursed me for my difference, they hated words I sung.
A poem Is a playground for perspective It’s lemon juice to the brain, piquant as can be to the mind It’s the place that transcends making sense and gives dollars instead
Her porcelain skin reflects the light, That is absorbed by everybody else’s deep brown around her. She is not rich, but they think she is. She does not know everything, but they think she does.
When I was young, I was full of life, Imagination leaked out of my skull. The boundaries were limitless,
I lay in bed so still staring at the ceiling. The silence loudly fills the room with emptiness I was not used to it; I was not used to this place.
Days pass me by, from Monday to Saturday. I don’t care anymore, for time is irrelevant to me anyway. I have a love hate relationship with the world, and currently I am feeling only hate.
Part: I Poem # 2 "Change" By: The Anonymous Poet One to another From good; to good or bad Change is what makes life Life is no fun without it
I can taste the salt of your tears,running down to your lipas I kiss you in this gray night. I can feel your fear through the trembles of your hands while I hold them tight, so we do not fall
Day by day, The colors fade. Morphed identities, Torn hearts, And bleeding smiles. All hidden under a translucent facade. Is it blindness Or is it ignorance? They are oblivious to
i don't know who I am, But i am not ordinary; I am orignally unique. i am not a geek. But, I am an intelligent freak. So to speak, I am passively aggressive.
I am... Me!! No else but me!! The cold world wanted to shape me different but I'm me!! vigorous fought winds and tears. Lost the sun but found the light. I'm shy but my words can hit harder than any hurricane.
Memory is a tenuous thingIt's so fragile, the things we forgetBut some memories hurt with the pain that they bring.
Oversized Children drowning in a pond of their own self loathing, trying, trudging long O’ so hard; stumbling down a path O’ so dark,why these people try to demonstrate in the light, “ignorance” passed down by selfish plight.It’s awful to see a si
To whom it may concern,
The street light on my window pane is ruining my perception of what's beyond the four walls of my bedroom. The street light on my window pane creates the illusion of daylight when in reality its 11 p.m.
Like a River Shallow and Deep Lighthearted and Melancholy Crashing Waves Gently tickling Toes Timid yet Outgoing Puddles and Oceans Laughing, Crying Calm and Emotional
The living dead are pretty ugly.