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Literature Text
King being murdered upon the throne
Dreams made out of solid stone
Learn to fly and learn to crash
Nightmares in a lightning flash
Life's what you get, not what you earn
Too bad you sat back and watched it burn...
Dreams made out of solid stone
Learn to fly and learn to crash
Nightmares in a lightning flash
Life's what you get, not what you earn
Too bad you sat back and watched it burn...
Literature
To be a writer
You taste like decaying leaves
and October's bad habits-
when it’s halfway through February
that still haunts these bones.
I have allowed you to
claw your love
into my arms
and chant into my
uninterested ears
for much too long.
I wish I was one of those girls
who could say wild flowers
grow up through my nooks
and my crannies just to tear
through my skin, screaming.
I’m just that dead eyed deer
on the side of the road dreaming
of shoving a pen down my throat
and writing these verses inside out.
I am no scribe, prophet, or spell caster.
I know it.
My skin knows it.
My pen knows it too.
Years and years
from now
my mind will d
Literature
I was taught right from wrong
I was taught right from wrong
By a murderer
I was taught truth from lies
By a magician
I was taught who my friends were
By my enemy
I was taught to be honest
By a professional liar
I was taught to always speak my mind
By being told to keep quiet
I was taught to be kind
By someone that beat me down
I was taught to smile
By someone who could never wipe a scowl of their face
I was taught to love
By being abused
I was taught to live
By someone who was already dead
I was taught to perform
By someone with stage fright
I was taught to be excellent
By someone that failed in everything
I was taught to rely on only my self
By being su
Literature
The Flower of Evil
The Flower of Evil:
Evil is but a blooming flower,
Alluring, captivating.
It is born from a humble seed
And grows to corrupt a forest.
To watch its infection spread;
To be a part of its existence...
I can think of no better prospect,
Can you?
Indeed one might baulk at the idea,
Of seeing millions suffer.
To watch worlds scream and writhe;
To see them suffer and die, with living eyes...
Yet there is a mysterious beauty in such devastation,
Fear that shakes me to my very core;
Is transfigured into a twisted pleasure:
As I am frightened, so too am I aroused.
I am addicted to the ephemeral sensation;
To the borderline between rapture and rup
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I submitted this poem one day before with an ending from someone else. But I liked this ending that gave me. So I had to resubmit it. I wrote the majority of it, and the ending was given to me
Go check out my facebook for more poems, to help me end my poems, for photography OR just to chat ^_^ [link]
Go check out my facebook for more poems, to help me end my poems, for photography OR just to chat ^_^ [link]
© 2013 - 2024 MikkiMarie
Comments20
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Thank you for the upload. Good work.