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Random First Lines:ORIGINAL STORY: THE LOST JEWELS
(AUTHOR: RABINDRANATH TAGORE)
â€˜â€˜A COMPLETE SELF-ANALYSIS,
EDITED AND WRITTEN ON BASIS OF THE... » Read
A silent admiration and a crystal clear realization leaving me with nothing to do, but accept the fact that it was never meant to be.
A short description of the changing in self during the transition to adulthood. A short essay to experiment with descriptive language. Please enjoy.
By Patricia Mcgurk Martin
When we are little children, sometimes it seems that nothing we do is enough to please the adults around us. They end up making the child feel she or he is the adult - and only the adults have the right to be the child.
Poetry | Updated Jun 23, 2014 | Reads: 3 | Comments: 0 | Likes: 0
The summary of my novel Florence.
taken from my book, "This Never Happened Before"
This is the first poem I am putting up out of a series. Every poem comes from a perspective and conclusions I made in college
Poem I wrote last year about my mother.
Poem for a dead friend of mine :/
This is the reason for my profile picture. My picture is of a tattoo on my left forearm. Makayla is my girlfriend/fiance, and Machelle is her mother. Makayla had a miscarriage on January 15th.
By Reveal Me Not
Poetry | Updated Jan 30, 2013 | Reads: 2 | Comments: 0 | Likes: 1
A poem meant to illustrate the struggle that youths face in trying to balance their own decisions with the expectations of their superiors. It depicts the issues of responsibility and maturity.
This is a tale of three boys, and three girls and how, one Halloween, they meet at a party. This night, each follows their own path, based on their preconceptions of maturity. Some see it as sex, others as connecting. Tonight, their different attitudes will come to light in ways never thought...
By Ca Ross
A joy put into metaphor.
Poetry | Updated Sep 24, 2012 | Reads: 10 | Comments: 0 | Likes: 1
This is a poem I wrote recently.
It is mainly about the three stages of life: youth, maturity, and adulthood.
I named it "Stairways" because I like my titles to be ambiguous. I see life like a stairway in that there are many levels, as characteristic of a stairwell.