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Literature Text
I used to write so many things
I used to smile, I used to sing
I used to be so very happy
I used to be…
And then you trapped me
The piece of paper
On the table
A little story
Of a traitor
Written lines
On the purest heart
Written lines
To lie about
I was the paper
You were the words
You violate me
So I got lost
I am the memory
You are the ghost
I won't be treasuring
Not anymore
You inked the paper
You inked my soul
It won't get better
It won't let go
They will retell this story
The piece of paper gonna burn to ash
And we will shine in endless glory
But it will never heal this painful gash
I used to smile, I used to sing
I used to be so very happy
I used to be…
And then you trapped me
The piece of paper
On the table
A little story
Of a traitor
Written lines
On the purest heart
Written lines
To lie about
I was the paper
You were the words
You violate me
So I got lost
I am the memory
You are the ghost
I won't be treasuring
Not anymore
You inked the paper
You inked my soul
It won't get better
It won't let go
They will retell this story
The piece of paper gonna burn to ash
And we will shine in endless glory
But it will never heal this painful gash
Literature
Dear Poetry,
I am trying to cover my sadness with words.
Tape them against my scars
& wear them like worthy paper cuts.
My tears are alcohol swabs, burning & cleansing
wounds of my own making. Sometimes,
I wish I could hide behind them forever.
But not even this journeyed flesh can stand
castle strong against speechless ink stains.
I know the code. This body does not deserve
a warriors death. & poetry, you're a monster
a creative monster, but evil nonetheless.
I wish to string you into knots, force feed you
down the throats of others. De-format you
& leave you empty; freeversed-
to hang loosely along the heartstrings
of strangers
Literature
Writer
I am a scientist;
Pinning down ideas
like butterflies
preserving them in
their fragile beauty
as I take away their freedom,
their life.
I am a parasite;
sucking the soul out
of music and leaving it
a hollow shell
that plays like
the noisy silence in
my ears.
I am a thief;
taking what is not mine,
the world around me,
and pouring it into
a mould that
I claim is
my own.
I am a blasphemer;
playing God in a
sacred place, changing
the world to my
liking when the orchestra
is not under my
conduction.
I am a liar;
selling false havens
to lonely runaways,
giving them a glimpse
of a world more glamorous,
more fantas
Literature
Writer's Block
A writer's block is something nobody can bear,
That's the truth, that I swear.
We all have a specific goal that we write for,
Even if it sometimes start to feel like a chore.
When our minds are shrouded and we can't think clear,
That's perfectly normal have no fear.
We might not be able to write about the things we like,
Then sometimes the most brilliant inspiration will strike.
Until we get inspired we should practice writing more,
Even if it's just a simple story about how you went to a store.
We must broaden our horizons for new themes and such,
Maybe we find a subject for which we have a special touch.
So prepare for your insp
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I want to kiss your cheek....
Bur there's a plasma screen in my way!
lol
Bur there's a plasma screen in my way!
lol