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Literature Text
You hear the sneers beneath your laughter,
Like quivering arrows shot in the air.
Your own voice taunts and mocks you,
The living mirror of a lie’s contraire.
Making up excuses just to remain calm,
Soon out of things to make you feel numb.
Go on and hide the scars in the sun,
Your acting skills are second to none.
Every day’s fear swallows you up whole,
Giving birth to yet more doubt in your soul.
As each time is spent with a life on the edge,
You see yourself simply waiting for death.
Constantly at present with tales of the past,
You’re idly staring while others prance.
Where is that heart you wear on your sleeve?
Emotion has left you and oh, does it grieve.
Torn apart by the unknown you so fear,
Where the knight is kept in a little girl’s dream.
Dreading for the day you finally get to breathe,
For now you’re still stuck gasping in your coffin.
Remember though in your deepest of depths,
Exists a single string gliding from the web.
Whispering softly like the sliver of a note,
Waiting for your strength to come grab and hold.
Like quivering arrows shot in the air.
Your own voice taunts and mocks you,
The living mirror of a lie’s contraire.
Making up excuses just to remain calm,
Soon out of things to make you feel numb.
Go on and hide the scars in the sun,
Your acting skills are second to none.
Every day’s fear swallows you up whole,
Giving birth to yet more doubt in your soul.
As each time is spent with a life on the edge,
You see yourself simply waiting for death.
Constantly at present with tales of the past,
You’re idly staring while others prance.
Where is that heart you wear on your sleeve?
Emotion has left you and oh, does it grieve.
Torn apart by the unknown you so fear,
Where the knight is kept in a little girl’s dream.
Dreading for the day you finally get to breathe,
For now you’re still stuck gasping in your coffin.
Remember though in your deepest of depths,
Exists a single string gliding from the web.
Whispering softly like the sliver of a note,
Waiting for your strength to come grab and hold.
Literature
The Introvert's Curse
The Introvert’s Curse
As I sit in a room, alone, waiting;
I wonder what this day will bring.
Will there be excitement, laughter?
Adventure, exploration, action?
Excitement grows inside of me!
As I sit in a room, alone, waiting;
I realize that I am afraid of that.
What if something goes wrong?
Why did I make any plans at all?
I feel awkward, silent, uneasy.
As I sit in a room, alone, waiting;
I am convinced excitement is wrong.
Action, exploration, adventure?
I want them no longer; go away!
Silence; racing thoughts race away.
As I sit in a room, alone, waiting…
Literature
Journey to an unknown world
I turn the page and look
into a book
to see
what world's awaiting me
in some abandoned reverie.
I get lost in my mind
and one more time
I turn around.
I'm waiting for the sound
of footsteps falling on the ground.
Is someone there to guide me
on this journey
through my mind?
I wonder what I'll find
if I just go in searching, blind.
And if I stop or falter
only time will know to tell
what I have done to alter
someone's story told so well.
If I write this adventure down
penned in my own hand
will I know what's lost and what I've found
in journeys through this land?
© Sunny M. Jackson 2013
Literature
Excision
Excision
This is the only way to cure it. Would you trust someone who’s never been? Now listen: you need to get yourself a rope. Coarse preferably. Tie it as close as you can to the wound. Make it tight enough to starve it of its origin. Isolate the damage. Let the abrasion as you move distract its cause for you. Let it twist and spark and scrape away the rust into a clean flame. Take the flame and douse your fingertips as deep as you can, then deeper every time. Work your way up to the knuckle. If it scalds, good. Let it erase the infected nest from the forefront of your mind. The problem is self-constructed; unnatural, not organic on
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Thanatos was is the god of non-violent death. To read more about thanatos, you can go here:[link]
With all the problems and crap thrown our way, there comes a time when we fear we might break. That we'd think of suicide, get depression and simply find no meaning in life. We die while we're still alive. Let us challenge death. Challenge ourselves. To live the time we have and simply enjoy the good things. To challenge death, we must not only survive, but live.
!st poem of 2013, I wish to write more this year.
With all the problems and crap thrown our way, there comes a time when we fear we might break. That we'd think of suicide, get depression and simply find no meaning in life. We die while we're still alive. Let us challenge death. Challenge ourselves. To live the time we have and simply enjoy the good things. To challenge death, we must not only survive, but live.
!st poem of 2013, I wish to write more this year.
Comments2
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i like this poem, especially the ending. your rhythm was nice and the rhymes weren't cliche. they were subtle and only used when necessary. keep up the good work.