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There once was a time when we were.
Poetry | Updated Feb 5, 2015 | Reads: 14 | Comments: 0 | Likes: 0
I spread the dreams under your feet. Step Softly. As you are treading on my dreams.
This is the very first poem I write in 2014 and it basically summarizes my entire 2013 and how I want to live from now on. It feels so great to learn from your own experiences and feel stronger. Life gets you down, it'll swallow you whole and it'll play you like a YoYo; I learned the hard way....
Tonight a teacher has died. I wonder what humanity has left to ruin. I'm sickened. I hate myself for being part of a race that can take something fragile, and shatter it. You give me things to write about. You inspire a world I so desperately hope I had created. It is a monster.
This is for Mrs. Bradbury's new contest. My chosen song was Phil Collins' In The Air Tonight, which I'm sure and hope is pretty obvious when reading this. Come on people...lol. Enjoy!
By Angel Plant
Just a voice I hear in the dark. On my window pane. Maybe it was just me and one of my dreams. It again it could be real.
By Angel Plant
I was sent from above to protect and love you. No matter what and that is what I will do.
Well, a few months ago I swore I wouldn't write a poem involving sex, but I guess it's all part of growing up :) This is also a tribute to one of my favorite music genres: Country. I love the storytelling and specific lyric of the country songs, and though this doesn't have much storytelling, I...
The observed truth usually goes unsaid.
you made my life all about you..
Poetry | Updated Dec 22, 2012 | Reads: 3 | Comments: 0 | Likes: 0
Replay is a story that is about a boy named Troy. Troy has a brother named Nick, a mother, a father, and a best friend by the name Anna. Now the question is, what do you do when your best friend dies?
LET ME DO YOU
Poetry | Updated Aug 10, 2012 | Reads: 82 | Comments: 0 | Likes: 0
Rylee ReneeLynn McAller was the girl you loved to hate. Flawless skin, long, thick dark brown, almost black hair, anperfect body and personality. She had straight A's and a job. She was 17, yet partyed like she was 21. What could you excpect from a gurl whoes mother couldnt care weather she was...
By Iola Ried
Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we are here we might as well dance
Poetry | Updated Mar 30, 2012 | Reads: 4 | Comments: 2 | Likes: 4