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Our Twisted FateOur Twisted FateEveryday I stand alone,I fight with youin your evil ways.No matter how many timesI fix you,my effort never stays.I gently tryto figure you out,taking things very slow.And even whenI get frustrated,I keep my voice a calming low.But you're a twisted thingthat never gives,I'm pretty sure that I hate you.As I raise my voiceI begin to curse,I'm pretty sure you hate me too.Then finally I had to muchwith you,"Enough" I screamed!And "ENOUGH"I yelled.As the blade gleamed.The laces slowly fell,it's overit's doneI wonThere isn't a knotin my shoe anymore.Jeremy BrewerPoetry Embrace
photon upon sonnetawash in a language-like lightwhere every written word ishistorical projectionbeamed infinity-boundtowards the outer edgeceaseless juxtapositionphoton upon sonnetilluminating electronsinterstatic connectivityverses bound to imagerefracted by hopeof educating the youngthe same lightstars that guided immigrant shipssun that dictated the planting seasonsspeaks untold truthsto be harvested in aerialsheartseyeseach raya coddling legacyby it we are toldby it we are warmedby it we are bornby it we are one(this is a collaboration with disrhythmic . The original concept and starting lines are hers)
Daily Literature Deviations for July 5th, 2013Guidelines | How to Suggest a DLD | Group Administrators | Affiliation | Chatroom | Current Staff OpeningsDaily Lit Deviations for July 5th, 2013We are proud to feature today's Daily Literature Deviations! You can show your support by ing this News Article.Please comment and the features and congratulate the artists! For all of the featured artists: If you receive a DD for oneof your pie
All in WarWhen you're lost,In the sands of a time,Where bad is best,And everyone dies. Craving the ash,Of the innocent,Holding the hatch,For the putrescent. Holding the rope,That breaks their necks,Shattering hopes,To deadly effects. All in war,All on the floor,Blood and gore,And you crave more. Gutting for the fun of it,Killing for the sake of it,Burning for the smell of shit,Running, Ever scared of it. The writing on the asylum wall,They don't see it,But I'm enthralled,Every deed I've ever done,I'm appalled. Kill me,Kill me,Let me fall.
What Is Left When you lose something, dear to you heart. And after the depression has past. What is left? Fear. Fear, of losing what remains. It haunts you. Until you take a deep breath, And let go.