Lonelytaco's poetry

[Catharsis]

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<span style="font-size:24px;">Err.. Hi ^.^ this is where i'll be posting my poetic creations </span><img alt=" " data-emoticon="" height="20" src="<fileStore.core_Emoticons>/emoticons/smile.png" srcset="<fileStore.core_Emoticons>/emoticons/smile@2x.png 2x" title=" " width="20" /><span style="font-size:24px;"> feel free to leave suggestions, comments, or anything along those lines. Thankss! ___________________________________________________ "The Fire" She used to be extremely happy, but now it seems as though she has always had this tiredness to her. Suddenly, she began to seem so terribly depressed all the time. Her eyes once held this sparkle of hope within them, but now it's as if somebody drained every last drop from them. I like to think it was inevitable , in the same way trees cannot stop their leaves from falling every autumn, she could no longer prevent herself from falling. She used to notice the tiniest of things, watery eyes, particularly fluffy clouds and the sound of rain on the roof. She talks about death like her biggest dream, and she looks at life like her worst nightmare. Her smile, once as abundant as wild flowers, is now as rare as diamonds. Her soul that once was fire, has grown cold. Who blew out her fire? Perhaps it was herself. She has always contained a ever growing force within her. Maybe the pressure became too much to bear, and she unknowingly blew out her own fire.</span>


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[Tom-Pen]

Depressing... But not too bad. Do you ever try rhyme scheme?


Also, as a fellow writer, I know how nice it is to have someone who says they are looking forward to reading more of your work, so let me just say "I'm looking forward to reading more of your work." And I mean it. Keep it up!

 

[Catharsis]

[QUOTE="Francis Stickmin]Depressing... But not too bad. Do you ever try rhyme scheme?
Also, as a fellow writer, I know how nice it is to have someone who says they are looking forward to reading more of your work, so let me just say "I'm looking forward to reading more of your work." And I mean it. Keep it up!

[/QUOTE]
I haven't tried much rhyme yet! This is one of the longest things I've written. I usually do short poetic kinda quotes, which I will post here.


Thanks

 

[Grey]

I used to dole out the same advice every new thread, but now I have this for you:


https://www.rpnation.com/threads/between-the-words-a-poetry-tutorial.94456/

 

[Catharsis]

( Just a short little quote I wrote to fill your wondering hearts )


"Just because a flower is beginning to wither, does not mean it cannot be watered.


Just because a person is beginning to break, does not mean they cannot be fixed."

 

[Catharsis]

There are nights where I melt wishing I could hear your voice.


There are mornings where I'm rock solid waiting on your call.


There are days when when I'm in between falling, and have already fell.

 

[Catharsis]

A young girl lies in her bed, a dizziness filling her head. The sound of cars and voices echo through her room. She begins to close her eyes to go to sleep, but has a fear she won't survive the night. Images from the previous day's news broadcast flashes before her eyes. A boy her age was taken from life, his family would not be resting tonight.


Another girl, though different bed, had the exact same story in her head. She was there, she saw the bullet pierce through the boys skull. Despite the alcohol on her breath, she remembers it all. She haunts herself with the memory, as she lay In a hard jail bed. She didn't do it, she swears. It was one of her friends.


Now we see the criminal himself, once again same story, this time no bed. He lays in a field, different town, remembering the boy that he shot down. Don't ask him why he did it, he doesn't know, however the hatred still glows. As he as he raises the gun to his head, he decided it was time; time to end his own life.


Finally, we see the boy himself, still alive only in our minds. His last memories are of a angry man, and a bullet just above the nose. His soul still lives and now he knows, he shouldn't have stayed; he should've gone home. Wrong place, wrong time caused the end to his life.


We all know this story is true. Now we sit here and wonder, how. Like this happen to our children, in such a great nation? This could have been prevented, if only we had payed more attention. The boy didn't have to die, or more importantly, someone should've stopped the man with the gun.


(p.s, I wrote this for a school project called "Saving Our Streets" I apologize for the ranting if there is any, but I had a time limit, and had to write a given amount of words.)

 

[JayWolf]

woah nice

 

[Catharsis]

They used to say, words would never be as painful as the things people would throw at us; the solid things, but I don't think they ever planned on something as reckless as you. They never planned that the small little girl who played in mud and counted on flowers ever spring to ever be discovered by someone as convincing as you. You, who stained white walls with your crimson words that spred like blood across every wall built to keep you out. You were the artist who used his beautiful colors to conceal small traps in leaves I would never guess covered a deep hole that I could never get out of alone. You offered me the sun and tricked me into believing I had been locked in the dark along when the truth is, I was the sun while you were the dark side of the moon. You tricked me into walking through the coldness with you in the promise that I would soon find sun on the other side of your switching sides. I would've followed you anywhere. Then came the worst days. Lightning instead of rain, ice instead of snow; you, had a temper. I put up with it in the solid belief that you were the best thing that could've ever occured to me. Then you left, and silly I was, I thought I needed you. Months went by of me pitying myself in bedroom floors with my head pressed to cold floors thinking somehow my sorrow would bring you back. It never did. I'm so glad it didn't. You were a flame that tempted me like a child might be drawn to poison apples or dark woods.

 

[Catharsis]

I found my God in a dark bedroom with the intention of never seeing light again. My God offered condolences for his lateness and used his jagged hands as tissue paper, allowing them to soak up the last few years of wrongness that earthly hands had caused me. It took me bad habits and fake gods before I found the one who shun light in the darkness and used his body as a spiritual shield, protecting me from the evil tossing itself at me from all angles. He found me before I drowned myself in this puddle of pity that no one would ever want to stick their own two feet into. My God was undefined, allowing me to take his words and morph them into whatever strength I needed in order to continue because my God accepts everyone in all their forms and is always willing to change himself for the sake of your comfort despite all hate curses you have thrown at him year by year. My God has never judged anyone. He preaches equity for all rather than the idealism that some things are worse than others, he sings "Love thy neighbor" as if it was the catchiest lyric to my all time favorite song. He doesn't judge, his perfections include a equal nature that I can only wish I'll take on one day.

 

[Catharsis]

"Growing up"


When I think about my childhood, the first thing I remember is that no matter where I fell asleep, I always woke up in my own bed. Back then I believed it was simply the magic of being a child that got me to bed in one piece, and I suppose that has some truth in it, but we all know the truth is that someone always carried me to bed. That didn't last forever, and I realize now that that same people who once carried me so carefully as if I was made up of the finest glass, are the same ones who took away the nightlight I so desperately needed as a child.


This isn't the only thing I noticed about growing up.


The same people who taught us the art of patience, also taught us the art of figuring out what we wanna be for the rest of our lives by the time we hit second grade.


The monsters that once hid under your bed became the imaginary friends who taught us how to be both lonely and happy at the same time.


The happy family that you thought you belonged to, ripped at the seams before you were 13 and you were forced to live in between.


The most terrible thing is that we can't go back. Instead we must hold our arms out as a bird would when preparing for flight, and we must embrace the impact of the future.


We must live drowning in our own tears as we slide into the foreign world of today, and forget the familiar worlds of yesterday.


For those of us who wish to move on to the future of better things, we must spin ourselves in the finest of cloth in attempts to cover the scars that yesterday brought us.


We must also learn to forgive ourselves.


We have to forgive ourselves.


You are the only one who will always live to be around for yourself, so you cannot hold grudges. You cannot continue this cycle of attempting to carve your fate with your own two hands in attempts to leave yourself out of it.


Remember, there is no enemy that can hurt you more than you can hurt yourself, but also keep in mind that you will be the greatest friend you will ever have. You have to stop keeping score of your own mishaps. Don't allow it to drag you to the point of no return.


Love yourself as a innocent child would love their mother, make sure that your voice is the strongest among others when it comes to titling yourself, and now, you need to embrace for impact.