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Literature Text
Life is but a passing moment
like a shooting star seen tonight,
a spark in madman's troubled mind
or was it just poets art well timed?
Perfect silence in space eternal
from where love would never return,
weak heartbeat inviting death
closer and closer with one last breath.
For the last funeral they march,
ghosts slowly disappear under the arch,
dry leaves carried across the cemetery
by wind that whispers a sad melody.
like a shooting star seen tonight,
a spark in madman's troubled mind
or was it just poets art well timed?
Perfect silence in space eternal
from where love would never return,
weak heartbeat inviting death
closer and closer with one last breath.
For the last funeral they march,
ghosts slowly disappear under the arch,
dry leaves carried across the cemetery
by wind that whispers a sad melody.
Literature
Once Upon a Time
Once upon a time,
There was a little girl,
She had a family, friends,
And all the time in the world.
Once upon a time,
The little girl's family fell apart in a day,
Her father walked out, her mother was never home,
And her siblings pushed her away.
Once upon a time,
As the little girl grew up,
She started having less time,
And she was always in a rush.
The little girl became a teen,
And all of her friends left her life,
Everyone started bullying her,
And she turned to the knife.
Once upon a time,
The teen missed that little girl,
But she was gone forever,
Distorted by the world.
Once upon a time,
The teen remembered how she had it all,
N
Literature
I dream of long journeys
My mind moves in more than one place,
I dream of long journeys constantly.
My soul cannot find a place of rest, peaceful sanctuary:
It roams about wading through mud, ice, and grime.
I cannot fathom its destination, however much I may try.
I know of this, though:
Always, it travels through land, sea, and air, --
(Not much to know, I know, but I desist)
Stopping at last where the sea at night weeps,
Where its waves break openly, clinging to frigid beach,
That is where I am:
My back against the cold, damp sand,
My feet against the fading east.
I watch the bright stars shining,
The howling wind, the roaring sea, --
The beat of my
Literature
quarter past midnight
The nascence of fall whispers
Quietly behind my ears -
The ripple of a full golden moon
Over thick, inky waves.
The last storm of summer left
Gaping darkness in the glass city,
Contorted boughs etched against
A disconcertingly wide sky.
Months of transition.
Anesthesia.
The knowledge that one day
That there will be one
Empty bed in the house
(please have mercy
please).
Drowning out the fear in soundwaves late at night.
Tearing lives apart with my bare hands
(Blood swirling open like petals;
I'm so sorry).
Crippling self hate and doubt.
Running from the ones I should love
(the southern stars offer consolation; outside,
the milky way arc
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Comments12
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I love your metaphors! I am more of a literal poet so when people use metaphors it makes my heart sing. I enjoyed your use of rhyme. sometimes in other people's poems the rhyme can be distracting but in this case it actually helped and made the poem even better. I thoroughly enjoyed this poem. Thank you for sharing this with the world!