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Random First Lines:They considered themselves as slave hunters at an early age. But being a slave hunter is not a joke, but Sang-Do who committed to the job more had... » Read
By Jeff Bezaire
One of the last poems I wrote in my early twenties before taking a break for 3/4 years.
The loss of innocence, the struggle to remain an individual, and the reluctant pursuit to fit in with others. There are always consequences.
By Cassey Dracotone
I certainly hope the ending confuses you. And don't ask...Only I know the meaning of "dying elegance".
A Journey in to the world of your inner mind,
One man goes on a quest to figure out why he's trapped in what he thinks is a dream, what will chris do what will he find, will you discover something true to you?
By James Edgar Cooper
The Hungarian-Canadian Poet Robert Zand once said "There are too many people, and too few human beings." He's absolutely right! What is happening to our world!? Why are we murdering each other? Why are we committing senseless acts of violence upon one-another and Mother Earth!? Why are people...
A hole found me. Where do I go from here? I am asking the public to suggest how I should continue or end this written piece.
I welcome your ideas.
By Jl Reaper
Would you cut off your hand for a million dollars?
By Master Papers
In the mid-eighties, snow-thrower manufacturing firm Toro, launched a promotion where purchasers of snow blower could refund a part of their purchase in the event that the next winter was characterized by modest snowfalls. The amount of money that was refunded was related to the amounts of...
I spread the dreams under your feet. Step Softly. As you are treading on my dreams.
A short poem about attraction.
Poetry | Updated Dec 18, 2014 | Reads: 29 | Comments: 1 | Likes: 0
Getting attacks from living close to people who smoke weed.
Just some creepy stuff.
Short Story | Updated Nov 20, 2014 | Reads: 37 | Comments: 1 | Likes: 1
A small poem about being there for someone else.
Poetry | Updated Oct 20, 2014 | Reads: 14 | Comments: 2 | Likes: 4
By Juli Monat
What a little boy.
Grappling with the aesthetic ,
The sweating striving of integrity and the charlatan-poseur
And what is it anyway .. this thing we call '' Beauty ''
Is the flower beautiful before you set your gaze on it ,or does is become beautiful because you looked and found it...