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Literature Text
Sleep child
Pretend the carousel of life doesn't make you queasy
Dance in the spider webs they ensnare you within
To eventually drain you.
Dance child
Entangle the strings attached to your body and soul
Let them try to solve the knots and tangles
Slip away when cut.
Sing child
Let your silent cries call out to Heaven above
Deafen the devils and the tormentors of Hell
Even though you're mute.
Kill child
Make them pay and make them all bleed out
Shroud them in spider webs and their dangling threads
Then go to sleep.
Pretend the carousel of life doesn't make you queasy
Dance in the spider webs they ensnare you within
To eventually drain you.
Dance child
Entangle the strings attached to your body and soul
Let them try to solve the knots and tangles
Slip away when cut.
Sing child
Let your silent cries call out to Heaven above
Deafen the devils and the tormentors of Hell
Even though you're mute.
Kill child
Make them pay and make them all bleed out
Shroud them in spider webs and their dangling threads
Then go to sleep.
Literature
I Am Flawed
From body to soul and in between,
They blotch the parchment that is me;
I know of worse flaws I have seen,
But surely
I am flawed.
I sometimes lose my temper,
Use my mouth before my mind;
I ponder things I could do better,
And regret them for a time.
I can be harsh, I can be blunt,
I tend to hide my thoughts;
But this is far from what I want:
To be in someone's heart.
Comparisons are hard to make
Since we are all unique.
But half the time my words are fake;
The real me is a freak.
Regardless,
These flaws define me, describe me—
They make me what I am.
In that light, I'm proud to say that
I
am
flawed.
Literature
Your Poetry Sucks
Yes, roses are red
And violets are blue
But you have to understand
Who said they had to,
Its about imagination
Emotion and orignality
Not the reiteration
Of dead men's practicality
These words,
They are your sentence
To a world that has to listen
As you create the difference
Whether it be
With angst poem against love
Or how you set your heart free
To fly like a dove,
For these words
Whether or not they be true
Their beauty and ideals
Will be used to define you,
So yes,
Hope ,in fact, has feathers
And like a caged bird it sings
But these words will only be tethers
That strip you of your wings,
Those are their words
Meant for their time
And me
Literature
Pressure
Pressure:
You try to breathe, but you're barely breathing,
You can't think clearly; you can barely speak.
Your mind is filled with needless thoughts.
Your cheeks are red and feverish...
-
You know what you must do,
But you can't bring yourself to do it.
Instead you jump into a thousand distractions...
Mindlessly seeking the thrill of the 'anything',
You cringe at the progress of time on the clock.
And with lips gone dry from an internal hell-fire
You continue to evade what you cannot face...
-Chen Yuan Wen, 22nd June 2013
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Out of nowhere, this struck down. Any and all feedback is as always highly appreciated
© 2013 - 2024 Ridderkvinden
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Ej hvor er det godt! Keep up the good Work! (håber jeg gætter rigtigt med Danmark er hjemlandet xD)