|
|
 |
-
Brittany Kirshman (11/22/2009 5:14:00 PM) Post
reply
crying for trust
im so intertiwined
so unready
so confused
so unsteady
your trust isnt in me
but it isnt anywhere
i could be going crazy
and you not even care
but since im not you do
and
since i dont do things to
lose trust from you
your trust is already used
from being abused
so thank you for not having trust in me
because ill never lose trust in you.
-
Kassiah Hinman (11/17/2009 7:54:00 AM) Post
reply
sorrow and death in the heart
what did i do with my self,
all i know to do is remember i'm worthless,
how the hell can life hurt like this.
you talk to you're self all night and all you know you can do is fight hopeing mabye one day you might see the the fake little light of hope you look and you look but 'nope' it's not there and you start pulling out you're own hair.
you beat you're head on the wall but no one is there to hear you're call.
you look in the mirror and you see you're tear's and all you understand is you're fear's.
you take a knife and you cut you're arm 'hell were's the harm'.
the pain make's you feal good like you know it really should
you see the blood hit the floor you dropp to you're knees and beg for more,
you suck the blood from the wound on you're body 'aaah a tast of death' make's you feal naughty.
you hear a little voice in the back of you're head 'go on you're already dead'.
you try not to listen but in you're heart you know it's right and for some odd reason for one more day you're going to try to fight,
you git up off the floor wipe the blood from you're mouth and opin the door.
you go to you're room and plop down on the bed and agin you hear the little voice in the back of you're head 'it's going to be ok' and all you know to do is pray that maby it's right and for one more day you try to fight.
please tell me what you think or how my poem could be better i want to be the best poet i can be, thank you and have a nice day.
-
Rachel Green (11/16/2009 12:52:00 PM) Post
reply
I have written [url=http: //www.research-service.com/custom-term-paper.html]term papers[/url] on how to improve writing your poetry. Anyone interested just contact me.
-
X. L. Woo (11/15/2009 1:45:00 PM) Post
reply
The Highway
I'm driving on Highway I-95,
On a long journey to south and sea.
I start from the Garden State,
All the way down to Florida.
I seem traveling on a gossamer
Of the national highway cobweb
Woven by a giant spider
All over the United States of America.
The great artificial structure
Is the world's ninth wonder.
I enjoy the view of verdure
On either side of the thread-
The line on the face of the Earth,
The artery of the transportation.
I enjoy the happy high speed,
Of course at the speed limit(!) .
Who wants to get into trouble
With the interstate police,
That will spoil the traveling ecstasy,
And cost extra expenses?
I enjoy driving on highways
For thousands of smooth miles
Without hindrance of traffic lights
Till reaching the goal of my life!
-
X. L. Woo (11/15/2009 1:44:00 PM) Post
reply
The Titanic
The Titanic! The gigantic steamer!
The luxury of the world!
Is She the pride of modern technique?
Or the shame of all the helmsmen?
How many lives She brought down in the icy water?
How much wealth She sank in the depth of ocean?
How many tears were shed for Her?
How many books were written on Her?
What if no iceberg floated there?
What if She didn't sink on that fatal night?
What if happiness didn't turn into mourning?
What if She completed Her maiden voyage?
Were She still sailing the blue seas,
From the Atlantic to the Pacific?
Or be replaced by a more modern liner?
And turned into a floating museum on display?
Would that Time flows back, and nothing happened!
I would like to see what She is today!
-
X. L. Woo (11/15/2009 1:43:00 PM) Post
reply
H2O
When the scorching sun's high at noon,
I run from here to there,
From east to west, north to south,
Through the fields, over the ditches,
Up the slope, over the summit,
Down the hill, to the valley,
Into the woods, through the glade,
Not in search of ores, nor of gems,
Neither of buried treasures,
Which everyone seeks,
But of the element-H2O;
Not to quench my thirst,
Nor to wash my hands or face,
But to water a withering rose,
Lonely and deserted in a nook.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|