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#21 |
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嗚呼
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i wrote dis in japanesz cuz its da 1 tru languge
Kare no na wo Kikeba Shisha mo mezame//ru// Chi mo namida mo Nagare//nu// Aku no Keshin Donna Akuma demo Hadaka de Nige Madou Sono na mo RAHA-RU sama Makai wo Suberu Kikoushi Kami no Tekitaisha [kanji:mono, reading "sha"] Hito wa Kare no Maeni Hizamazuki (Hizamazuki) Inochi Koi wo Suru 「Hikae yo Mono Domo〠Mi no te yodatsu Mashou no Koushin Daremo Kare wo Tomerareru//nu// (Tomerareru//nu//) Kuraki Michi wo Kiyoku Tadashiku Chimimouryou (Chimimouryou) to Chouryoubakko(Chouryoubakko) Aku no Hana Michi Eien Nare Daremo ga Akogareru Aku no ERI-TO TOIRE de Te wo Arawa //nu// Minna no Otehon Shumi wa Yohukashi ni Hi Asobi Takawarai Sono na mo RAHA-RU sama Tsunda Akugyou Kazu Shirezu Makai no No. 1 (No. 1) Tsuki na Kotoba wa 「Akugyaku Hidouã€ã€ŒBoujakubujin〠「Yoi Ko no AIDORU〠Mi no te yodatsu Mashou no Koushin Daremo Kare wo Tomerareru//nu// (Tomerareru//nu//) Kuraki Michi wo Kiyoku Tadashiku Chimimouryou (Chimimouryou) to Chouryoubakko(Chouryoubakko) Aku no Hana Michi Yami ni Somare Kono Yo no Subete Daremo Kare ni Sakarae//nu// (Sakarae//nu//) Yume to Kibou Akunu ni Kaete Seigi no Mikata Uchikudaku DA-KU HI-RO- Aku no Ikizama Eien Nare
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Plz visit my blog |
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#22 |
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CHOCK FULL O' NUTRIENTS
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I tried my hand at this poetry thing.
-- You don't look at her from across the room You look at her sitting next to you And you don't think about how nice she looks You tell her Except for her pigtails She doesn't smile from across the room She smiles sitting next to you And she doesn't think about how good you look Because she doesn't like that shirt Except, maybe a little There's a play on stage, it might be funny But you're not paying much attention The real star of the night is sitting next to you And you tell her that And she just goes, "Shut up." But doesn't mean it, because... She smiles. The leading man might be on stage for everyone Except her, because she's only seeing you Right next to her And she tells you that And you smile, and shove her a little, But then laugh and say, "I'm sorry." But you're not. The light is on stage But the light is in her eyes And you don't need to say a word Because it is in yours, too The doorbell goes off in the play But you don't hear it Your heart is beating so fast, it's pumping air And that's all you hear But don't worry: Hers is too. The play is over, and the cast bows. You would applaud She would applaud But you each have a hand In each others hand And that is better than applause. The theatre empties But you can't move Frozen in the moment? Let's not be cliched. Frozen... With her. There's no one left And she's not moving. Frozen in the moment? An overused device... Frozen... With him. Together. -- Mal
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"A new take on the epic fantasy genre... Darkly comic, relatable characters... twisted storyline." "Readers who prefer tension and romance, Maledictions: The Offering, delivers... As serious YA fiction, Ill give it five stars out of five. As a novel? Four and a half." - Liz Ellor My new novel: Maledictions: The Offering. Now in Paperback! |
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#23 |
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FFR Player
Join Date: Aug 2005
Posts: 64
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Mal, that is awsome, you mind if i show that to my friend? He'd love it...he's like madly in love with this girl, and he cant tell her, and i rekon he'd really like that.
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Romans 10: 14-15a \"How then can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them? And how can they preach unless they are sent? |
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#24 |
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CHOCK FULL O' NUTRIENTS
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Go right ahead =D
Mal
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"A new take on the epic fantasy genre... Darkly comic, relatable characters... twisted storyline." "Readers who prefer tension and romance, Maledictions: The Offering, delivers... As serious YA fiction, Ill give it five stars out of five. As a novel? Four and a half." - Liz Ellor My new novel: Maledictions: The Offering. Now in Paperback! |
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#25 |
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FFR Player
Join Date: Aug 2005
Posts: 64
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Thankyou ^^ People, if you have any poems by any good poets other than yourself, try posting them, and maybe even putting your opinions with it. If you cant write a happy poem, find one and post it, im trying to find one myself, but i'm stacked up with exams --_--".
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Romans 10: 14-15a \"How then can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them? And how can they preach unless they are sent? |
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#26 |
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CHOCK FULL O' NUTRIENTS
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I try to help
I ask if I can I tell jokes You laugh But it doesn't help I try to help I see if I can I give advice You nod But it doesn't help I try to help I know I can I listen You speak But it doesn't help I try to help I know I can't I'm silent You're silent And I'm helpless - Mal
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"A new take on the epic fantasy genre... Darkly comic, relatable characters... twisted storyline." "Readers who prefer tension and romance, Maledictions: The Offering, delivers... As serious YA fiction, Ill give it five stars out of five. As a novel? Four and a half." - Liz Ellor My new novel: Maledictions: The Offering. Now in Paperback! |
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#27 |
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(The Fat's Sabobah)
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Mal has a way with words. I really like your poems.
Really. Your poems are like the ice cream of the literary world. |
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#28 |
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FFR Player
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Mal, that second one was pretty good, though the first one was really awkward.
I myself enjoy writing poems much more than I enjoy reading them. I write them as emotions run strong, then throw them in some random contest, get something in exchange for the emotion, and forget about them, so I have nothing to post, really. Now if there was a short story thread... I would just own that.
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Last edited by Tokzic: Today at 11:59 PM. Reason: wait what |
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#29 |
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CHOCK FULL O' NUTRIENTS
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I think you can make your own threads for short stories. At least, that's what I've always done. Create a thread and own it up, son.
Mal
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"A new take on the epic fantasy genre... Darkly comic, relatable characters... twisted storyline." "Readers who prefer tension and romance, Maledictions: The Offering, delivers... As serious YA fiction, Ill give it five stars out of five. As a novel? Four and a half." - Liz Ellor My new novel: Maledictions: The Offering. Now in Paperback! |
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#30 |
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FFR Player
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I like that first poem a lot, Mal...Very well done...I haven't written poetry in a real time. Anything I've written lately is just flat-out bizarre. Oh, and Vamps...Absolutely DO NOT send any money to poetry.com....I think i've had like 6 poems published, and they keep sending me letters to give them money. Once I wrote a poem for them under a different name in order to enter for a contest, I wrote it in about 30 seconds and they sent me a letter for that one as well. I'll see which ones I can find...they're all from like 3 years ago, and all fairly emo, I presume...and they all rhyme.
Here's the one I wrote in 30 seconds in order to enter a question: Wiggles going here, then going there now leaving me alone and despaired. the wigglers never seemed to care that i was one of them. the wigglers trampled many towns they turned the village smiles to frowns. without ever thinking to turn around to help the poor town out END Here's an emo one: Saddest Happy makes you less profound Contentment makes you weak, So keep you hopes upon the ground Life is best when it is bleak, For then it makes no claim To that of which the dreamers speak. One should take no higher aim Than miserable life, Yes, on the cross salvation came. Souls grow strong through only strife And rot when they are safe For civilized is Satan's knife. Why live in bland security When death is to be had? What meaning in contentment Is worth my eighty years, too short, By any standard to justify avoiding Catastrophe, and bitter joy That only comes from trial. END I wish I could find some of my newer/school stuff...Those tended to be much better. I remember a couple real cool ones, but doubt any of those are around anymore.
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I'll trade you this delicious doorstop for your crummy old danish. Done, and done. |
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#31 |
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FFR Player
Join Date: Aug 2005
Posts: 64
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Ok, i was away for a while..in hong kong ><, sorry i didnt come on, but yea...i was kinda busy.
on topic, Mal, you ARE really good with words, i agree with Jewpin. @ ScuicidalMuskrat, dont worry, i dont have any money to send to them XD. I cant find any of my slightly less emo poems >_<. Actually, i cant find any of my poems at the moment because all my notebooks that i write them in are in various places around the house and im too lazy to go and find them. I like Saddest. Are you saying that only through suffering that anything worthwhile can be achieved?
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Romans 10: 14-15a \"How then can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them? And how can they preach unless they are sent? |
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#32 |
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CHOCK FULL O' NUTRIENTS
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The General The Waif
It was an odd day when the bomb went off People did not see it coming, all they saw Was the news, and the bright flashes outside And that was the last thing they saw Few people survived, and banded together But a swift hunter ran through the world Destroying brothers, friends and lovers Claiming bodies regardless of sin To escape this hunter, the people burrowed Passing the moles and past fetid bones To create a new sanctuary, away from The deadly sportsman of the above world And it was of this time, where people, desolate Looked for solace, and found none. They looked Up towards God, and found none. And they looked To each other… And found none. They lived down for hundreds of years, afraid Terrified to enter the surface, for as soon As they did, they were sure to be sniped Brutally by the viscious swift hunter The majority of people lived not past forty And most children fell to various monsters The Pox, The Mumps, Influenza… Common And people were beginning to give up A man of forty and two, older than all Took to the podium, entranced the crowd “We cannot live in fear, we cannot live In desolation, for if we do, we will succumb.” He knew to attack the people who resisted His radical view could not be challenged And if it was, you went to the surface And died a lonely death. For two more years, the General campaigned And those who would not fight were cast aside Not killed, but left behind, sick, weary, useless Never looked back upon Until the General returned home, to find a waif Sitting in his hole in the wall, waiting Her eyes fixed on the door, her skin a pallid green And when he entered, she rose “Why do you have to do this?” She cried “You’re killing everything, when we should Band together, live in peace, not hurt each other Don’t you see that this is not the way?” But he didn’t, and cast her aside. He thought on her words, however, and they Ate away at him. Had he been wrong? How could he have been wrong? The people were Happy, content, and fixated… And no one realized the life expectancy Dropped The life expectancy fell, like a stone to the floor And people were dying. The General returned home again And the waif was there, rocking But he did not yell; he embraced her The waif, in his arms was his saving grace He no longer felt anger, but knew They should know the truth Not to shroud their death in mystery But let them be proud People were not happy with the change of Ideals. No one would be They threw stones through his window And the glass claimed the waif The General took the podium And made a plea for the violence to stop They were just killing themselves And they did not realize. The crowd sat unmoving, confused. The General stood silent, on edge The crowd shuffled, confused and angry Until a new man took the podium “We will continue the campaign,” He cried, moving the mass to his words “And those who stand opposed will fall By my hand, and we will prosper.” The crowd cheered, and clapped The General returned to a broken home Had she really been right? For what is existence, What is living without Strife? -- Mal
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"A new take on the epic fantasy genre... Darkly comic, relatable characters... twisted storyline." "Readers who prefer tension and romance, Maledictions: The Offering, delivers... As serious YA fiction, Ill give it five stars out of five. As a novel? Four and a half." - Liz Ellor My new novel: Maledictions: The Offering. Now in Paperback! |
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#33 |
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FFR Player
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The Forgotten Foot Prints
Past, unravels the time when everything went wrong. The sun, looks rather dashing in the time of night. She can't remember She is lost. Everything that she could hold and bear, left her to burn in the desert alone. She is tired of trying to remember. Tired of the blank spot of darkness in her mind, that she can't see. Tired of life. She was hurt, witnessed death, death that she cannot remember. She thinks she does not deserve to live, But as she walks the empty street, And sees the lonely, shy tree She remembers. Sky, sky, sky so blue take me up take me home to the tree house that’s painted in red loved in all the colors, and received all the love in the universe. The forgotten foot prints will reveal, once she will find herself watching from the sea. Dear Sarah, don't be afraid. Kneel down, there, next to the green bench, Where your family used to share How went their day. And the picture captured herself, as a new day arrived.
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![]() בקצה השמיים, ובסוף המדבר, יש מקום רחוק מלא פרחי בר מקום קטן, עלוב ומשוגע, מקום רחוק מקום לדאגה יש אומרים שם שמשיקרה וחושבים אל כל מה שקרה אלוהים שם יושב ורואה ושומר אל כל משברא אסור לקטוף את פרחי הגן אסור לקטוף את פרחי הגן ודואג ודואג נורא |
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#34 |
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FFR Veteran
Join Date: Sep 2004
Location: Northeasterly
Age: 31
Posts: 401
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Psh, didn't I already post a poem on a different thread? It's called "slipping to somnolence", do a search for it if you want to read it... (not an emo poem; it's actually about being sleepy, not wanting to die.)
[edit] Looks like It might not be posted here on FFR after all. Here 'tis: Slipping to Somnolence The night is tiring now, it's crawling slow, And all the day's fatigue is running deep. My anesthetic yawns have me in tow, I want to just collapse now, into sleep. My eyelids now seem heavy, full of lead. My lazy body seeks the touch of fleece. A soporific weight upon my head Surrenders me to doze in soothing peace. Exhausting weight congeals into a yawn. Lethargic legs begin to give from wear. I'll sprawl in bed until the break of dawn To end my absent, inattentive stare. When flannel falls upon my dormant chest, I'll let my weary corpse submit to rest. I wrote it when I was tired, clearly. It's a shakespearean-style sonnet, iambic pentameter, heroic couplet and all that. Also, try searching for yourself on poetry.com. You are very likely to find someone with your name, even if it's obscure.
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How has it been 15 years |
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#35 |
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FFR Player
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The Autumn Wind is a pirate
Blustering in from sea With a rollicking song he sweeps along swaggering boisterously His face is weather beaten He wears a hooded sash With his silver hat about his head And a bristly black moustache He growls as he storms the country A villain big and bold And the trees all shake and quiver and quake As he robs them of their gold The Autumn wind is a Raider Pillaging just for fun He'll knock you 'round and upside down And laugh when he's conquered and won |
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#36 |
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CHOCK FULL O' NUTRIENTS
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There's glass in my gums
And a stone on my back It's the first piece of A larger piece that I Was moving for the masses. My lungs are half full There's sweat on my brow My blisters are bleeding And the blisters that reside On my blisters are bleeding. The people clap and smile As I shift the rock over And in my shoes stained red My socks are stained red But my shoes shine white. I go back for another slab Of this mountain which I had Promised to move for them My muscles ache and my throat Is raw, but my voice still booms And while I create this, Piece by painful piece, You all smile, and you all leave Done with it, done with him And I am left with no one They clap and they cheer They're happy to hear What a marvelous thing That I've done... But I stand alone, in my shoes My shoes stained red, alone In my socks stained red, alone With my arms dead, alone My lungs swimming, My throat torn But I look fine, and no one Not even you will ask me why. - Mal
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"A new take on the epic fantasy genre... Darkly comic, relatable characters... twisted storyline." "Readers who prefer tension and romance, Maledictions: The Offering, delivers... As serious YA fiction, Ill give it five stars out of five. As a novel? Four and a half." - Liz Ellor My new novel: Maledictions: The Offering. Now in Paperback! |
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#37 |
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FFR Player
Join Date: Aug 2005
Posts: 438
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lord_carbo's Five Meals is the best poem so far
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Hi. |
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#38 |
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FFR Player
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Eh, not into poetry too much. Decided to write one, comepletely not related to my life. A bit emo, but oh well.
Why did you have to do this to me I just don't understand To turn away and try to flee To break this so brittle band. I know I wasn't great I know I tried my best I guess now it's too late You treat me like the rest. It's really not worth it The time I put in I know my ideas weren't a hit But at least i tried to win. This is all I have to say Good luck with your life For every night I will pray That you won't be my knife. Time for a happier one. The Race My legs are burning The goal is so far away Though i must keep on churning So I can reach my dream one day. I am approaching the bend Quite curved and steep Breaking away from the trend Taking a giant leap. I'm almost done, halfway there I can almost smell it now Unfortunately, this race is not fair To explain as to why, I don't even know how. It really doesn't matter I'm not out to win To empty the full bladder Will surely bring me a grin. I'm approaching the line The end is almost near Though I know I did fine I wish I wasn't the one who had to steer. The pressure is too great In order to win, I need to conform My time is getting late The final gun, she warns. 100 meters to go I've decided to stay true I don't care how slow As long as I finish with my own view. |
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#39 |
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FFR Player
Join Date: Jun 2005
Location: numbOMGemo
Posts: 75
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If this were not critical thinking, I would post one of my two-minute poems.
Instead, I'll post a much-more-than-two-minute poem. God never was that important when we sat on the floor to watch TV, stretching our fingers through one another's, feeling cold cement on our backs as we hung the television from the roof. God never mattered when it was 9:52 PM and the fireflies peeked out of the dark, taunting our hands that gripped mason jars. You asked me whether I knew God while holding onto a tree branch seven feet above the damp grass. You dropped and as I hesitated, you told me that now, you knew God. You didn't come out and say it, of course, but your eyes were like a cat's, and your lips blossomed as they pursed, preparing for unspoken words. And then there was the limber in your fingers when mine grabbed yours but yours slipped away impossibly and you gave me a look that could make passive a wild horse. Of course you knew God. God didn't care if I didn't pray last night, if I fed my carrots to the dog, if I touched myself in bed, or if I couldn't pronounce "syllable". God just cared that I was alive, and he watched me as I tipped open my window, smiled as I ran barefoot through the soybean field to get high under a tree at 9:30 PM with the guy my parents told me not to be seen with. God didn't really care what I did and so God was never very important to me.
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Remember when the platform was sliding into the fire pit and I said 'goodbye' and you were like 'NO WAY!' and then I was all, "we pretended we were going to murder you"? That was great. |
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#40 |
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FFR Player
Join Date: Sep 2005
Posts: 5
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I wrote this for a contest and did ok with it. I write enough stories and poems to fill a library, I have them all in spiral notebooks in my closet (its the only thing in the whole closet) and I like this the best.
It's a story about a myth and it tells what happened. By Procris' Hand A lovers fall Scornfully met Across the plane A lion was set She hid until the hour came When she would see her lover's flame Never again the two would rise Caused by a stranger unknown to their eyes He arrived and saw her kerchief stiffened with blood And plunging his sword thought to join her in mud So the blood ran to the root of the ancient mulberry To forever change the color to cherry Running to him bid him alive His life was ended in front of her eye She thinking she the cause died the same For she had taken all the blame By procris' hand two met their demise And both now live in constant surprise At the simple mistake that love can make By making a life and the life it take Feel free to PM me and tell me what you think... |
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