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Literature Text
When writers die they
become old books with faded
yellow pages, crisp
and delicate, stacked
high in piles of leather
bound books. The smell of
warm coffee brewing fills
the air as people bury their
noses in classics old
and new. When Writers
die they become adventures
and friends and lessons.
They rest on shelves or
travel in the hands of book
lovers who can't go
Anywhere without
a book to escape into
when they get the chance.
When writers die they
become new worlds and people
to explore and keep
close at heart and by
revisiting them
they are not ever
Forgotten. This does
not seem like a bad
reincarnation.
Literature
She always fell for boys who needed saving.
She always fell for boys who needed saving.
Giving them kisses in the dark
to numb their headache from
drinking too much and yet
not enough to kill lust.
She was always adored by boys, who,
if given the chance, would rebuild
the world for her.
But she wanted to be the heroine
and refused to see
she needed saving, too.
Literature
I'd Be Pretty If I'd Just...
I'd be pretty if I'd just smile
If I'd cut my hair a certain way
And cover myself up in that chemical crap you call make-up
But did you ever think that just maybe...
I don't wanna be pretty
That I just wanna be me
Who cares if no one ever calls me beautiful
Who cares if I'm never asked to dance
Hell I don't even know how to dance anyway
I don't care how the world sees me
I only care how I see me
And I think there's nothing wrong with the girl in the mirror
Sure she doesn't smile much but that's cause she's going through hell
Her face may look plain without any make-up
But that's just the way I like it
An old pair
Literature
R.I.P Words
Do you know what it feels like?
To feel something, but...
be unable to express what it is;
to be silent;
to fight it alone.
I know how much it hurts,
but I don't know how to show it.
Poetry used to be my refuge,
a place where I could be alone -
express all my emotions,
without being judged.
I'm losing it.
I can't connect to poetry.
Everything sounds so stupid...
Everything I write sounds stupid.
I have to erase all my feelings,
because they don't sound right.
The words aren't real.
They don't show what I feel
And maybe this will be the last.
Maybe I'm gone:
lost of all emotions.
I'm truly alone...
I used to have poetry.
Now I have not
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I know a few lines have mistakes in them but I'm too lazy to fix them. This is for school. Good day.
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