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Literature Text
A murder she wrote,
Of fallen plum blossoms and spilt apple juice,
Of scattered tea cake crumbs and whispered small talk.
She wrote the plan, the murder, the confession and trial,
On lace in vivid red wine.
Like a veil, death's calm draped its gossamer folds about her,
Her shroud complete, she was adorned as her fate's crown.
A single shot rang out.
It was the typewriters ding.
crumb
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Literature
Eight Thoughts About Nowadays
I.
I have forgotten how to write
Therefore I have forgotten how to exist.
II.
Life keeps tripping me every turn of the way
And I keep slipping in these ice-covered roads
III.
My hometown is screaming during the night
But I put on my headphones and try to sleep
IV.
People insist we don't care
And the moment we show them we do
They then try to discredit us
V.
My name means nothing to the world
VI.
Weeks go by and yet I still stand still
Waiting for autumn to turn into winter
VII.
The cold seep into my bones
And make me even more fragile than I already am
(My heart is frozen and I shiver)
VIII.
"Make me a poem" they say
I can't anymore
I
Literature
Elegist
Dear Poetry,
It’s been far too long since I’ve written you
and the reason I know this is because you’ve been banging on my door
everyday now for the past three months saying
“Where have you been?”
But I have been too busy dying over a job that couldn’t care less
if I walked out onto the streets and laid in the crosswalk.
I have spent too much time under fluorescent lights smelling like stale bread and mustard
to find the time to talk to you.
I have slaved on my days off only to be pushed down instead of raised
and told I am not worth fifty cents by a man who rapes me with his eyes.
Now, I know what yo
Literature
1.
Bombarded. This was the word that Thomas Albertson Junior would use to describe his life. This was only more compounded on this specific day. He had woke at his normal 7:00 time, and followed his normal routine. At 7:00 his alarm went off. At 7:01 he woke up and hit snooze. He repeated the snooze cycle two more times. At 7:16 he knew he needed to really wake up.
Thomas grumbled to himself as he dropped his feet over the side of his bed. Slowly he made himself stand to his feet, took a second to let his head catch up with his body, and began to shuffle towards the bathroom. After leaving last night’s meal with the porcelain god, he wash
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muwhahahahaha!!! I bet I had you going there for a second thinking that she killed someone didn't ya!
(yes I'm a bit of a a****** at times)
Anyways.....this came to mind when I was trying to write a murder/duel/mind-being-blown scene for one of my more 'unsavory' charaters.
it would seem I'd rather write poems then actually work on my stories that I need to (and promised to!)
(yes I'm a bit of a a****** at times)
Anyways.....this came to mind when I was trying to write a murder/duel/mind-being-blown scene for one of my more 'unsavory' charaters.
it would seem I'd rather write poems then actually work on my stories that I need to (and promised to!)
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Comments25
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Creepy and clever!!
Fantastic imagery too, and I bet our unknown writer is grinning in glee!
Fantastic imagery too, and I bet our unknown writer is grinning in glee!