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Literature Text
Cut my life.
End my breath
For what I've done
deserves death.
Death is bitter.
Revenge is sweet.
Have me pay for
my deceit.
Something of yours
I regret stole.
Now the coroner's
digging my hole.
This payment
is for me.
I will rest
in memory.
Goodbye father
for what I've done.
Goodbye brother
the evil has won.
End my breath
For what I've done
deserves death.
Death is bitter.
Revenge is sweet.
Have me pay for
my deceit.
Something of yours
I regret stole.
Now the coroner's
digging my hole.
This payment
is for me.
I will rest
in memory.
Goodbye father
for what I've done.
Goodbye brother
the evil has won.
Literature
My World
It takes
a lot less
than
sticks and stones
to break these
bones,
and words can hurt the most.
My body
is the
enemy,
My face's
just a little bit
too plain.
I stick out in
all the wrong places,
but nobody will acknowledge
how
ugly I am.
Why can't they see what I see?
My boobs
are too small,
my butt is
too flat,
and my stomach
extends
way too far.
I'm fat.
I'm ugly.
I don't belong here.
I cannot
control
what you say to me,
I cannot control
who you
are.
But I can control
this.
At least,
I can
try.
But inside, I know
that
I'll never be
good enough, I'll
never be quite there.
It's not sticks
and s
Literature
Would You
If I were to take all my love,
And paint it into a beautiful work of art,
Would you love me back?
If I were to take all my love,
And put it into a beautiful poem of hope,
Would you call me yours?
If I were to take all my love,
And spin it into a beautiful cloak of strength,
Would you forever hold me in your arms?
If I were to take all my love,
And tell you,
"I love you"
Would you say you love me back?
Or will all my paintings,
All of my poetry,
All of my giving,
All of my hope,
All of my love,
Would you let it all be gone in the wind?
Would you let it all be part of the past?
Or would you love me back?
Would you call me
Literature
i don't understand, but i don't need to.
I feel like i don't give you the things that matter
i've always prided myself on my ability to conjure stories and
words and at the drop of a hat, and i've spun countless tales
about things that are out of my control and aches and ghosts
and that time we weren't us.
when it comes to you there's never enough.
never enough of anything; words, time or love.
because nothing is enough to sum this all up, and i feel that
this is the best feeling ever and it would lose something
if i could wrap it up in a sentence or a novel
and do it justice
thats what makes this so special
cause i used to think i understood myself
and that i knew i was all
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i heart this one...
BUT is was made in psychology class AGAIN. maybe i should do work in that class for once?
BUT is was made in psychology class AGAIN. maybe i should do work in that class for once?
© 2011 - 2024 natirey7
Comments1
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I don't think I would even bother doing work in there, unless it's writing amazing poetry like this 