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Literature Text
Don't mind them,
Be yourself.
Said the heart.
If they don't want you around,
others will.
Said the heart,comforting the soul.
Do what you think is right,
do what you think is fun,
Said the mind.
You're in control of yourself.
This is not the time to be in woe.
Because time is running out.
Make a difference,
to your life,
to the world.
Hope for the better of us.
Be yourself.
Said the heart.
If they don't want you around,
others will.
Said the heart,comforting the soul.
Do what you think is right,
do what you think is fun,
Said the mind.
You're in control of yourself.
This is not the time to be in woe.
Because time is running out.
Make a difference,
to your life,
to the world.
Hope for the better of us.
Literature
Fallen
When I was little, I held my hands up
and there was always a bigger pair
there to pick me up, raise me up
Dark and cold both accumulate near the ground
but I had found
a path to heaven, now forgotten
as the earth turns 'round;
So overcome by confusion, how...?
I can't cast my demons out
one devil still pulls me down
off the earth and off my gentle cloud
I lay upon the ground,
bloodied, broken, beaten down
and lament my fate, silenced now
He recalls his immoralities as if
they were someone else's little slips
and though his words have scarred me
much deeper than any knife or whip
he parades through town, a man, a god
going on about life as
Literature
Who I've become.
Once upon a time;
Oh so cliche.
I met a man promising to change things.
Foolish innocence on my behalf,
I believe his every cold lie.
He took me on a ride;
One I couldn't get off.
Spinning round and round and round.
I could feel my stomach doing cartwheels.
Excitement and terror mixed.
Time began to fade into itself.
His mask began to melt.
He was so beautiful; what a mistake.
Satan himself was under that mask.
I was trapped. Held Captive.
His for the taking.
I was a toy, A doll of sorts if you will.
Life became a blur, a muddled mess.
Life is so funny sometimes.
The monster won the game.
It was all just a beautiful game.
Blood stained him
Literature
Specter
How many years have I roamed through these halls?
I search for something that I cannot find.
The darkness encloses, pressing on me;
I exist in a vacuum: bodiless.
I must have done something terribly wrong
To go on for the remainder of time
With needles tearing the skin I don’t have,
I gasp for air to fill lungs that aren’t there.
I search through the halls to look for myself.
The screams I hear can only be my own.
I wish I knew what I did to deserve
Such a dreadfully empty existence
So I could beg a shred of forgiveness.
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Comments9
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I am suddenly inspired to do something
I think your writing is beautiful by the way
keep up the good work!
I think your writing is beautiful by the way
keep up the good work!