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Literature Text
Love is a waterfall,
Beautiful yet dangerous.
Love is the snow,
Soft yet prickly.
Love is want,
Desired yet unnecessary
Despite the danger,
Despite the prickles,
Despite the unnecessary,
We feel the beauty,
We feel the softness,
We feel the want.
Love is a waterfall,
We all crash over.
Love is the snow,
We all dive into.
Love is want,
That we all seem to need.
Despite the beauty,
Despite the softness,
Despite the want,
We know the danger,
We know the prickles,
We know the unnecessary.
Beautiful yet dangerous.
Love is the snow,
Soft yet prickly.
Love is want,
Desired yet unnecessary
Despite the danger,
Despite the prickles,
Despite the unnecessary,
We feel the beauty,
We feel the softness,
We feel the want.
Love is a waterfall,
We all crash over.
Love is the snow,
We all dive into.
Love is want,
That we all seem to need.
Despite the beauty,
Despite the softness,
Despite the want,
We know the danger,
We know the prickles,
We know the unnecessary.
Literature
A Key Point
Hello. I'm your left shift key. You know, on your keyboard? I think it's time we had a little chat.
See, I think I have things better than some others I know. Like my friends P, A, I, and N – you know those keys? - well, they've been feeling used. Whenever you open up Microsoft Word, they just start groaning because they feel your poetry coming. Me, though, I guess I'm just feeling ignored. Unappreciated. You know the feeling? I know you do. I saw that poem about your family. Tough stuff, right there. I feel you, I really do.
I know you feel all deep without me. Like the restraints I put upon you shackle your inner poet. I'm not unc
Literature
Advertisements
She was only six when the funeral homes started sending us advertisements, all competing with each other to be the best, to win her business. To win our business, more like; six is hardly old enough to understand what's going on. It's not old enough to understand why everyone is covering their mouths with their hands and failing to hold back tears when you walk into the room, or old enough to understand why people begin to outright sob when you start talking about what you want to be when you grow up. Once it was a doctor, before that it was a fairy princess, but right now it's a policewoman.
And of course all the children have heard about t
Literature
House on my Head
I grew a house on my head.
I populated it with animals:
a mouse for a housekeeper,
a lizard in the kitchen cooking eggs,
a butler wolf whistling and saying 'sir',
a chinchilla to sweep rooms' corners,
a giraffe wiping windows,
a black Labrador pup to clear the chimneys.
The house is old fashioned but it runs to time.
A sloth winds the clocks;
a badger delves the vegetable patch.
Everyone gets on fabulously
and will eat eggs together at breakfast,
gossiping about the awful state of my head:
how the tubes in my brain need scrubbing out,
you can tell because the plumbing gurgles
and the lights in the attic flicker at unexpected h
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Okay, i just thought this poem was kinda good and wnat your comments...
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Comments27
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kinda? KINDA? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!? This thing is frickin' amazing!!!!! No, amazazing!
Dude, you seriously rock.
Dude, you seriously rock.