Submitted by ex_display_kitchens, 11/11/2009 1:50:38 PM [profile]
Submitted by kilroy85, 11/9/2009 9:14:12 PM [profile]
Submitted by kilroy85, 11/6/2009 5:13:21 PM [profile]
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When governments fear the people, there is liberty. When the people fear the government, there is tyranny. The strongest reason for the people to retain the right to keep and bear arms is, as a last resort, to protect themselves against tyranny in government.
- Thomas Jefferson
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ID# 247602 |
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Submitted by kilroy85, 11/6/2009 5:10:22 PM [profile]
Submitted by EuReKa, 10/24/2009 7:46:51 PM [profile]
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My Curse
I’m bleeding and screaming and feeding my pain
Can anyone stop me from going insane?
Why am I living, is it even worth it?
I stare at my wrists, they’ve already been slit.
I’m on my knees with my head hung so low.
How much more can I take, anyone know?
A little more, I die each day.
Why am I starting to feel this way?
I’m crying all these crimson tears
And trying to hide from all my fears.
I don’t have a real way to let my emotions out
But there is one way my emotions seem to spout.
So here I go, pick up a pen to write
I feel my inner demon begin to ignite.
His smooth hand against my wet cheek
And under my hand my emotions leak.
I was holding all these emotions at bay
But now I’m saying what I was afraid to say.
My inner demon guides my hand
I can’t stop until I meet his demand.
Finally I fall into his sweet embrace
And I start to fall into dark space.
I relax and give my body up to him
If I fight, a chance to win is slim.
By this time, my demon is in control
He won’t stop until he’s reached his goal.
Finally my demon begins to recede
And I get a chance to finally read.
I read what my inner demon has wrought
My hand wrote this without any thought.
People ask where I get my inspirations
How do I come up with all my creations?
So deep, inspiring and full of emotion.
Does anyone have the slightest notion.
Of the pain I feel when I write?
Of the depression that I have to fight?
I have all these emotions locked in my chest
And you people still think that I‘m blessed
With the ability to write like I do
But, my god, if you only knew!
My ability to write is my curse
I wish all these feeling would just disperse.
Can’t you tell that I’m poetry’s slave!?
I’m already starting to dig my grave.
My inner demon only lets out a laugh
I think my mind is being split in half.
To write or not to write, I’m so confused.
Sane or insanity, which would you choose?
- © 2009 Michael Dean Dumeir
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ID# 245190 |
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Submitted by SariKate, 10/22/2009 9:42:32 PM [profile]
Submitted by s1995lucia, 10/21/2009 10:05:42 AM [profile]
Submitted by thought_provoker, 10/17/2009 12:49:36 PM [profile]
Submitted by ~Haris~, 10/4/2009 11:40:21 PM [profile]
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He sat himself down, quietly on the windowsill of his lonesome room, looking out into the direction of the world outside. He looked across the wide awful sky, his gaze swept towards flying birds and wandering butterflies in the wild. The faraway look in his eyes reflecting vision that of a prison-bound soul, his head lowered in absolute gloom, as the mother nature whispered to him, "child, you need freedom".
- Haris (foulu)
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ID# 241993 |
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Submitted by Crocs7, 9/13/2009 10:25:47 AM [profile]
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