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whatever
Contributed by
simon_says
on
Sunday, 16th January 2005 @ 01:57:36 PM in AEST
Topic:
oops
|
My horrible poetry...
His face looked glazed
erased
I am a man.
One.immersing into the deep softness
I can only see the dark ceiling in front of my eyes
Living my dreams.
His hands move slowly and i'm in love with my fingers.
Raised to be a sheep, he
became worse.
One, two, three, four
He's still dumb
Let's have a party
with cereals.
The golden sunset awakes as we lift our branches
and whisper our sorrow
Let me take you here, I can fly today.
Twist and turn and it's still here.
We were born to this
It has to exist and we're paying for it.
Or just me.
I want to be you.
Copyright ©
simon_says
... [
2005-01-16 13:57:36] (Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: whatever
(User Rating: 1 ) by afterdark on
Sunday, 16th January 2005 @ 02:05:43 PM AEST (User
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a Message)
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I hae to say this makes no real effort and very little sense..It went ok at first but then you drifted into some abstract poem..
Raised to be a sheep, he
became worse.
One, two, three, four
He's still dumb
It really could have been much better as I guess is why u have no topic here. |
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Re: whatever
(User Rating: 1 ) by autumngreeneyes on
Sunday, 16th January 2005 @ 02:36:26 PM AEST (User
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a Message)
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you became a black sheep..counting your fingers..in front of your face..a druggie, maybe? you want to be someone else? an abstract idea.. |
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Re: whatever
(User Rating: 1 ) by Essentially9 on
Monday, 17th January 2005 @ 12:29:26 AM AEST (User
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a Message)
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i agree with patrick. but im just thinking that this poem is just trying to back up your beginning line... |
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