Siblings fight.
Siblings argue.
Siblings hit.
Yet they always forgive.
But..... what if the sibling was cold?
What if the sibling was cruel?
What if the sibling treated bạn like scum?
What if the sibling was heartless?
What if the sibling worshiped the ground another walked on, while tormenting you?
What if the sibling constantly mocked your social standing?
What if the sibling called your fears ''dumb and irrational''?
What if the sibling would never help you, even in a dire situation?
What if the sibling wanted to hurt you?
What if the sibling blamed others for their hatred of you?
What if the sibling made bạn cry, and then refused to apologize?
What if the sibling hurt bạn like a dao, con dao in the heart?
What if the sibling made bạn nearly burst into sadness every time bạn see them?
What if the sibling caused bạn to think why bother living?
A sibling like this is not a sibling at all.
It is a monster.
A terrible, ignorant monster.
Note: This is dedicated to my brother. I mean every word Sam, every word.
Siblings argue.
Siblings hit.
Yet they always forgive.
But..... what if the sibling was cold?
What if the sibling was cruel?
What if the sibling treated bạn like scum?
What if the sibling was heartless?
What if the sibling worshiped the ground another walked on, while tormenting you?
What if the sibling constantly mocked your social standing?
What if the sibling called your fears ''dumb and irrational''?
What if the sibling would never help you, even in a dire situation?
What if the sibling wanted to hurt you?
What if the sibling blamed others for their hatred of you?
What if the sibling made bạn cry, and then refused to apologize?
What if the sibling hurt bạn like a dao, con dao in the heart?
What if the sibling made bạn nearly burst into sadness every time bạn see them?
What if the sibling caused bạn to think why bother living?
A sibling like this is not a sibling at all.
It is a monster.
A terrible, ignorant monster.
Note: This is dedicated to my brother. I mean every word Sam, every word.
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Tick, tick, tick
That sound, constant in my head,
A sound that haunts every mind,
A sound that brings fear,
A clock,
Ticking the giây of your life away,
Making life shorter and shorter with every tick,
Drawing death nearer and nearer,
But bạn should not live in fear,
For life is too short for such a thing,
Some people waste these precious seconds,
Others treasure them, making sure that no tick is wasted,
The clock ticks on,
But as this sound is registered,
What do bạn do?
Tick, tick, tick
Three thêm seconds, gone, like that,
Did bạn use them well?
Live life,
For life is too short to spend these giây in hell.
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Tick, tick, tick
That sound, constant in my head,
A sound that haunts every mind,
A sound that brings fear,
A clock,
Ticking the giây of your life away,
Making life shorter and shorter with every tick,
Drawing death nearer and nearer,
But bạn should not live in fear,
For life is too short for such a thing,
Some people waste these precious seconds,
Others treasure them, making sure that no tick is wasted,
The clock ticks on,
But as this sound is registered,
What do bạn do?
Tick, tick, tick
Three thêm seconds, gone, like that,
Did bạn use them well?
Live life,
For life is too short to spend these giây in hell.
His Melody
To quiet the tears
She sings him to sleep
When the morning has dawned
He can’t be roused from a rest so deep
She sings him to sleep
Night after night
And when he does not awaken
Her will to go on grows slight
She sits and waits while he’s away
She remembers his laugh and smile
Oh what a joy to see his joy
She lifts up a prayer “May I see him in a short while?”
She sits at the window and waits
The sun sets slowly behind the đồi núi, hill
The others say hello but she doesn’t hear
She is waiting to make the tears still
The time has come she cannot wait
She sets out to see her boy
To stop the tears
To bring him joy
But the tears she stills are not his
They fall from her eyes
She sings his lullaby again tonight
As she kisses the stone and her son good bye
To quiet the tears
She sings him to sleep
When the morning has dawned
He can’t be roused from a rest so deep
She sings him to sleep
Night after night
And when he does not awaken
Her will to go on grows slight
She sits and waits while he’s away
She remembers his laugh and smile
Oh what a joy to see his joy
She lifts up a prayer “May I see him in a short while?”
She sits at the window and waits
The sun sets slowly behind the đồi núi, hill
The others say hello but she doesn’t hear
She is waiting to make the tears still
The time has come she cannot wait
She sets out to see her boy
To stop the tears
To bring him joy
But the tears she stills are not his
They fall from her eyes
She sings his lullaby again tonight
As she kisses the stone and her son good bye
Dear record of my misfortune I was correct. Today I walked into class and saw a huge pile of letters on my desk. When I opened them I realized that it was hate mail. It was so stupid, people were getting angry at me for what I did to Jessica when it was her fault! They were saying things like : Die emo chó cái, bitch die, bitchy whore. That last bình luận doesn't even apply to me! I haven't even had my first Kiss and they are saying this stuff to me! There was one letter that was bot mean even though I don't know who sent it. Inside it đã đưa ý kiến hoa hồng are red violets are blue I don't now why they hurt you, if bạn want I'll tell them to can it, all because I tình yêu bạn Janet. I don't know who wrote bạn tình yêu poem rhyme thing but I tình yêu bạn too!
Is It True bạn Lie?
Is It True bạn Hate Me?
Is It True bạn Want Him?
Is It True You're My Best Friend?
Is It True bạn Enjoy Hurting Me?
Is It True bạn Like Me Crying?
Is It True bạn Talk Behind My Back?
Is It True bạn Tell People Our Bussiness?
Is It True I Hurt You?
Is It True bạn Back Stabbed Me?
Is It True bạn Let Me Believe The Lies?
Is It True bạn Let Me Call bạn My True Bestfriend When bạn Weren't?
Is It True.....?
This is A Poem Hope Yuh Enjoy It Btw Tell Me What Yuh Think And This Is Just About Me Gettin Hurt After Being Stupid Enough To Believe Her Lies She Wasnt A True Bestfriend
Is It True bạn Hate Me?
Is It True bạn Want Him?
Is It True You're My Best Friend?
Is It True bạn Enjoy Hurting Me?
Is It True bạn Like Me Crying?
Is It True bạn Talk Behind My Back?
Is It True bạn Tell People Our Bussiness?
Is It True I Hurt You?
Is It True bạn Back Stabbed Me?
Is It True bạn Let Me Believe The Lies?
Is It True bạn Let Me Call bạn My True Bestfriend When bạn Weren't?
Is It True.....?
This is A Poem Hope Yuh Enjoy It Btw Tell Me What Yuh Think And This Is Just About Me Gettin Hurt After Being Stupid Enough To Believe Her Lies She Wasnt A True Bestfriend
Her eyes were ngọn lửa, chữa cháy red,
as if they were
lit from anger.
I dont understand
why bạn are
mad at me.
Why bạn shoot
those harsh words
at me.
Aimed like bullets,
piercing my soul.
And It cant heal.
I never can dodge them.
The words hit me,
and I fall back.
My Những người bạn ask me:
"What's wrong?"
"Can I help?"
But they cant help.
Because I dont understand,
why bạn are mad.
Why do bạn have to do
what bạn do to me?
Why does it give bạn
joy to harm me?
Why?
Why are people bullies?
Why dont my Những người bạn take action?
Why cant bạn tell me WHY?
as if they were
lit from anger.
I dont understand
why bạn are
mad at me.
Why bạn shoot
those harsh words
at me.
Aimed like bullets,
piercing my soul.
And It cant heal.
I never can dodge them.
The words hit me,
and I fall back.
My Những người bạn ask me:
"What's wrong?"
"Can I help?"
But they cant help.
Because I dont understand,
why bạn are mad.
Why do bạn have to do
what bạn do to me?
Why does it give bạn
joy to harm me?
Why?
Why are people bullies?
Why dont my Những người bạn take action?
Why cant bạn tell me WHY?
Streetlamps, houses, gates, remotes, books, CDs and televisions. Brothers. Pairs. Each has a twin. In this chaotic place of materials the world has come to be, everything has a brother. But brothers are family. And family is connected somehow; if not bởi blood, then bởi what?
Energy.
Look hard. At everything that has a brother. A line of energy casts a connection between the two. The energy, with its harsh glares and cold looks creates the strongest and most complex bonds. Strong because of their brotherhood. Complex because of its invisibility. For there is power in invisibility. Cold, cruel power. The power to be a persecutor with no chance of being a victim. The power to twist and squeeze but not feel the wrenching pain of your twists.
Now, bạn ask, what is left? Cruel, invisible energy. For a cruel, invisible world.
This is my first time nghề viết văn in stream of consciousness. I know it's short but don't judge me too harshly.
Energy.
Look hard. At everything that has a brother. A line of energy casts a connection between the two. The energy, with its harsh glares and cold looks creates the strongest and most complex bonds. Strong because of their brotherhood. Complex because of its invisibility. For there is power in invisibility. Cold, cruel power. The power to be a persecutor with no chance of being a victim. The power to twist and squeeze but not feel the wrenching pain of your twists.
Now, bạn ask, what is left? Cruel, invisible energy. For a cruel, invisible world.
This is my first time nghề viết văn in stream of consciousness. I know it's short but don't judge me too harshly.
