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Random First Lines:You ever sit all by yourself in the quiet?
No music, no tapping of a keyboard?
you know that noise you hear that's louder than anything you've... » Read
Trust? I don't trust. Not in you, or someone else. Or even myself. Because once you trust someone, they can hurt you. And for me, they always do.They try to break me in any way they can. I won't let them. Not yet. Because they don't know that I can do it all to myself. I don't need help. I'm...
This is a poem inspired by the memories of my ancestors.
Sometimes I just wanna runaway
Poetry | Updated Mar 21, 2012 | Reads: 13 | Comments: 0 | Likes: 1
I have buried myself...
This is a poem about my take on past events that have led up to how my life is now. I hope you enjoy. (Il s'agit d'un poÃ¨me sur mon point de vue sur des Ã©vÃ©nements passÃ©s qui ont conduit Ã la faÃ§on dont ma vie est maintenant. J'espÃ¨re que vous apprÃ©cierez.)
A romantic poem from a man to his girlfriend, whom he has left for another women. Completely fiction. In English and in French. (En francais: Un poÃ¨me romantique d'un homme Ã sa petite amie, qu'il a quittÃ© pour une autre femme. ComplÃ¨tement fiction.)
My first list poem I havent written in a while and it just came to me.
Poetry | Updated Mar 2, 2012 | Reads: 7 | Comments: 0 | Likes: 1
lest i may forget....
Poetry | Updated Feb 27, 2012 | Reads: 20 | Comments: 2 | Likes: 0
By Jaz Grace
I'm wanting to write a story with this passage, but I want to know if it's any good. If it's not, tell me and I'll get rid of it. I know this is where the summary goes but basically what the passage is explains most of it.
Lizzie's mom has left, and now her and her dad are leaving the beach, forever.
A poem i wrote about needing to forget about my ex and how i feel about him, and move forward.
By Shannan Browne
People writing poems ... do they know they last forever?
Is it possible to forget?
Poetry | Updated Feb 3, 2012 | Reads: 7 | Comments: 1 | Likes: 0
I wrote this a week after my boy friend got sent away for a year.
Poetry | Updated Feb 2, 2012 | Reads: 0 | Comments: 0 | Likes: 2
A poem for my father about his presence in my memories, and how I've associated him over the years with different small things, such as the sound of his boots, his cough, his smell, the roughness of his hands, etc. If you like this poem, also see
By Don George
One from the archives.