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Literature Text
Veil of translucency,
You cover not what we see,
Nor what we hear,
But feel,
Our sense of what it feels to be,
That purest pride,
And elegant vanity,
Come shattered confidence,
And twisted bitter jealousy,
You strip away what cannot be,
Hide it from crying eyes,
Of those who look back,
Beyond the pool of what was me.
You cover not what we see,
Nor what we hear,
But feel,
Our sense of what it feels to be,
That purest pride,
And elegant vanity,
Come shattered confidence,
And twisted bitter jealousy,
You strip away what cannot be,
Hide it from crying eyes,
Of those who look back,
Beyond the pool of what was me.
Literature
A Poem Unwritten -Revised 2010
"a poem unwritten" -alternate version
this is a poem unwritten
told by a father who still exists
it's about a boy no longer
and a town that fell asleep
the boy broke the cycle
and ended the piercing silence
he fought with his life
so the people may live longer
but the father was left alone
and now he has a body to bury
this never should have happened
but this is a poem unwritten
told by a father who still exists
that day in class
the boy didn't pay attention
as wrote a poem unwritten
when the boy raised his head
looking for an audience
he found a violent silence
when he raised his hand
to show and tell his poem unwritten
Literature
Decendant of Darkness
Angels of death consumes your
Anguished calls.
You fight.
You beg.
Undulating laughter echo from the darkness
In my heart.
I am the forgotten.
I am the reaper.
The evil cries out,
As I watch in silent awe.
The remnants of your mind
Is lost in the storm of death
that surrounds you.
There is no escape.
There is no resistance.
Here from the world i control.
The hearts echos their surrender.
Literature
kaleidoscope.
Even though it is said that the human eye can see about 16.8 million different colors, we're all pretty much color blind in the end.
Today, I am blue, and you are red; today the fear begins again.
The sky is a milky white and your eyes are an empty grey, but you somehow still manage a smile: this is the first thing I notice. The second is that your shoes are untied, then that your gaze seems unfocused, then that your hair is a disaster, then that your voice sounds like rain and I hate rain.
You catch my stare.
I turn away because I am afraid.
You are uncertainty and unpredictability, and for this, I hate you; the unexpected is a d
Suggested Collections
About aging and loosing a sense of what it means to be yourself..jealously looking back those who haven't lost their innocence
© 2010 - 2024 Angst-of-One
Comments4
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I dig the piece, especially the final short stanza. Good work.