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Literature Text
I need you
Out of my head
But every song I sing
Reminds me of you
Every raindrop
That falls
Reflects your entrancing face
And every ray
Of the sun
That beams down on me
Warms me up
As if I'm seeing you smile right in front
Of me
I remember your shoulders
I've held one time
And I find myself
Wishing
That our fingers were intertwined
I wish
That every poem that I made
Wasn't dedicated to you
As I start to replace ink
With tears
When I say
I really do miss you
Out of my head
But every song I sing
Reminds me of you
Every raindrop
That falls
Reflects your entrancing face
And every ray
Of the sun
That beams down on me
Warms me up
As if I'm seeing you smile right in front
Of me
I remember your shoulders
I've held one time
And I find myself
Wishing
That our fingers were intertwined
I wish
That every poem that I made
Wasn't dedicated to you
As I start to replace ink
With tears
When I say
I really do miss you
Literature
Catalyst
Suffering in absolute silence
Hate breeding, edge of violence.
Ears closed to desperate pleas
Snarling rage, just let me be.
No tears pool, no drops fall
Strike a match to burn it all.
Hands falter with rush of memories
Bittersweet i smile sadly at the scenes.
No words to egg me nor beg me stay
Mildly curious gaze as I walk away.
Fire licks fingertips with a flick its no longer dangerous.
Filled with anger, none to blame
I alone hold all the shame.
The denominator of pain
The catalyst always stains.
Head held high, trailing flames
I move on for there is no other way.
Literature
Undead
With so much left unsaid
Here I stand, lost...undead
Your lies were without cost
Without a care for what I lost
Left only with my hate
Blackening my wishful fate
My time is gone, and so are you
If only I knew forever wasn't true
Literature
Guilt
Guilt (A work of fiction that is all too true) Charles Foster was feeling particularly old today. It must have been the weather. In truth, he was quite old, but as he put it, age hadn’t caught him yet. Born into a war and a veteran of two more, he had seen all that there was to see, done all that there was to do. He now lived in a quiet little house in a quiet little town. Despite his great age, he was still a formidable sight. Foster was taller than a good deal of the townspeople, even when his back was bent like the tree in the town square—as he quite often was. His face was perpetually set in either a grim glare or a scowl, but a few of the older folk like the mayor insisted that he had was soft as a marshmallow beneath the grizzled and weathered face, as hard as that was to believe. He always wore the same outfit: a loose plaid white and blue dress shirt with the
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Gah stupid lovesicky poems >3>
At any rate, Enjoy :3
[Editted XD]
At any rate, Enjoy :3
[Editted XD]
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Comments5
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Naaweee T_T