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This is off my WireCLub page. It is a poem I had to do for my English 3 class. We had to compare are life to something. Like a metaphor poem. So read it, and find out what my life is like..
Poetry | Updated Jan 25, 2013 | Reads: 0 | Comments: 0 | Likes: 0
yes, i like rap. i like to uplift those who need it.
We live in a bendable reality.
Who this girl is.
Poetry | Updated Mar 7, 2012 | Reads: 5 | Comments: 1 | Likes: 2
Yesterday I realized that my life is a lot like a puzzle. Then I realized that so is everyone else's.
By Rusted Crimson Lust
For something to begin, another must end. You can think of spring as the end of winter of the beginning of itself. It's your choice. As it's your choice to look upon anything in life that ends as a new chapter or the end of one. Oh look, more metaphors! I think I'm addicted...
Perihelion: The point in the orbit of a planet or comet at which it is nearest to the sun.
A beautiful word, to describe a beautiful person.
By Xj Fearless
about the joy lost in our society.
Poetry | Updated Dec 2, 2011 | Reads: 0 | Comments: 0 | Likes: 0
Wrote it while feeling alot of love for someone. Thought of all the things about them that I loved, and came up with this. Enjoy! & thank you for reading!
Comments/Opinions - Much Appriciated :)
A 'love and lost' song, not the typical one, but a love and lost song none the less.
Ambition, amazement, and devotion inside of me have to come out in some way.
My English class read a book called "The House on Mango Street", a story told in a series of vignettes, which are short stories with a good hefty dose of literary elements involved. Vignettes use quite a bit of imagery, symbolism, and metaphors.
We were asked to write several of our...
this is for all ages. but i bet not all ages would understand this. it may sound pretty simple. but if you really know what i mean then you will realize how much that actually means.
Poetry | Updated Jul 22, 2011 | Reads: 2 | Comments: 1 | Likes: 0
By Philip Roberts
A very early poem, from the 1970s, perhaps my first porm where each verse is a separate haiku poem.
Can life really be boiled down to a log drifting in the tide?