switch
By forvermorejpj on November 25th 2009, late afternoon.on topic If you have power
if i had the power i would make the rich poor and the ppor rich... so they could see what the stress is for each other. I would not let the new rich off the hook until the watched the pain they feel reaches out... nor the new poor until the watch loved one suffer. if i had the power.. there would be a bit more understanding.
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friends (just a quick write)
By inuyasha12 on November 25th 2009, late afternoon.on topic ur best firends
My friends are great they help me through my life or they give me somthing to write.I help them as they would me.The longer im with them the more i wonder are they my friends or just there.It takes my thoughts away if there not there.I wish i knew why i thoughtless when they are not there.
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Stupid Little Girl
By GettingThroughDark on November 25th 2009, mid-afternoon.on topic Something You Feel
This girl knew how to
push my buttons.
I was so depressed
I wanted to die.
But now Im okay
because shes leaving.
And i'll be happy
here for thanksgiving.
push my buttons.
I was so depressed
I wanted to die.
But now Im okay
because shes leaving.
And i'll be happy
here for thanksgiving.
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marks there for ever
By cinderella girl on November 25th 2009, mid-afternoon.on topic cutt
cut by cut
the blud drips and drips
i cant stand to watch it
yet i cant stop looking
cant stop watchin
cant stop cutting
I am like a hallow body
I have no thoughts
No mind
No feelings
No heart
The blud falls
It falls apon the white sheets of a bed
pouring into puddles
marks there for ever
such as the scars
marks there for ever
Cut by cut
The blud drips and drips
marks there forever
the blud drips and drips
i cant stand to watch it
yet i cant stop looking
cant stop watchin
cant stop cutting
I am like a hallow body
I have no thoughts
No mind
No feelings
No heart
The blud falls
It falls apon the white sheets of a bed
pouring into puddles
marks there for ever
such as the scars
marks there for ever
Cut by cut
The blud drips and drips
marks there forever
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where is my home?
By shuvro on November 25th 2009, lunch time.on topic Something You Feel
i dont know what to feel any more
tring for being happy has taken it's toll
gate to the bridge
is closed,
on the other side
i know,
lives my soul....
a soul full of agnoy n despair
though me wanna be there
coz thats me
thats my home.
tring for being happy has taken it's toll
gate to the bridge
is closed,
on the other side
i know,
lives my soul....
a soul full of agnoy n despair
though me wanna be there
coz thats me
thats my home.
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boys are trouble
By lawanda thompson on November 25th 2009, lunch time.on topic BoysBoysBoys
get you in trouble for saying things they are not suppose to say but they smile and your face and act like nothing happen and they suspect everything is all good but it not because they be acting like nothing happen and then they have a nerve to ask us ladies what is wrong when they know darn well what is wrong they be trying to play dumb like always
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Winter
By spiralskye on November 25th 2009, late morning.on topic Winter...love it or hate it?
I used to hate winter
My nose gets so cold
And my fingers blue
But the trees sparkle
A reflecting feeling
Pushes light from the dark
And the gales refresh
As though the world swims
In a vast void
Until spring comes around
And the birds start to sing
I was never with winter
Now the winter is me
A swirling land of frost
A heart of eternity
My nose gets so cold
And my fingers blue
But the trees sparkle
A reflecting feeling
Pushes light from the dark
And the gales refresh
As though the world swims
In a vast void
Until spring comes around
And the birds start to sing
I was never with winter
Now the winter is me
A swirling land of frost
A heart of eternity
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Lazyville
By spiralskye on November 25th 2009, late morning.on topic Something You Feel
Today I am lethargic
I sit here present
My thoughts still and solid
Wandering as far as the table
Where my chocolate lies
Will i ever leave the house
Motivate me as far
To the door i stand
To the computer i draw
Clicking is my words
And music my breath
Into a blank void of binary
There is nothing there
There is nothing there
Tired uncreative
I cannot move
I cannot create
Anymore
I sit here present
My thoughts still and solid
Wandering as far as the table
Where my chocolate lies
Will i ever leave the house
Motivate me as far
To the door i stand
To the computer i draw
Clicking is my words
And music my breath
Into a blank void of binary
There is nothing there
There is nothing there
Tired uncreative
I cannot move
I cannot create
Anymore
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Broken mother
By baby678678 on November 25th 2009, late morning.on topic Pregnancy
She wakes up to the warn sun on her face, she slowly opens her eyes and smile. But that smile quickly wiped away by a face of sickness. She leans over her bed and throws up. She slowly makes her way out of her bed. She walks into the bathroom, she looks in the mirror. Does the rims around her eys look a little more grayer? She starts the water for the shower. As she undresses, she noitceds a little bulge at the bottom of her stomach. Whats wrong my stomach? She thinks to her self, suddnly the little bulge stires a little. Her face frozen with shock. This can't be, she only had sex one time. She only 15. They had safe sex didn't they? She can't rember, it was all in heat of passion. She reaches her in the shower and turns off the water. She pulls back on her shirt and walks to her room. Quietly she gets ready for school. She skips the bus and walks to school. She stops by the store on the way. She walks down the aile were pregnancy test are sold. She slips one in her purse and walks at of the store. All she can think about is the tiny little bulge in her belly. She walks in the building leading to her class room. She sits down at her desk, suddnly she feels the urge to vomit again. She leans away from her desk but its to late. She pukes all over the floor next to her desk, in that moment every thing fell out of her purse. The teacher pulls her blonde hair back. One of her class mates pulls the trash can close to her face. The teacher starts to pick up her things off the floor, suddnly she rembers what she got hidden in her purse. She flings her hands over her stuff. " I just..... need.... to... go to the bathroom!" She choked out. The teacher look at her in shock, but after a few moments for helps her to her feet and leads her to the door. She hold one to her purse like its her life she holding. When she finnaly reaches the bathroom she pushes a stale door open violently. She gently removes her jeans. She open the test and pee on it. After a few moments, she watches the strip turn in to a postive singh. Tears slowly fall from her eyes. She gently pushes the little bulge in her stomach. Faster the tears fell. " My baby." she whispers as she rubs the tiny little bulge.
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The Great Empty of the Hungry Soul
By Trivial Pursuit on November 25th 2009, mid-morning.on topic Early A.M. Ramblings
Although the temperature in this room usually stays at a chilled 63 degrees, at the moment, it's jumped up to seventy-five thanks to my heater. Without it i'd be a frozen cadaver, stiff with rigor mortis like some doomed mountain climber slipped and fell down a crevasse, into the frigid stinging cold that burns the limbs numb slowly crystallizing your blood cells until, from the inside out, you solidify into an effigy of torturous pain. Luckily though, my room is well warmed. As for my mind, it is totally fried from sleep deprivation. Headaches drag on and seep out through my eyes in a slow, heavy burn. Only fragments of my former coherence are jangling around my brain, withering away in these early hours. How they seem to fly by now that i long for sleep. The day is full and longing for me, but i am nonreciprocating and shun the light which scorns and mocks me. The adults and children on their way to fulfill their day with work and school aiming to enhance themselves. So what REALLY changes when we grow up anyways? Mostly our lives are planned with little of our input mattering any more than a fraction of the whole. We go to school for a quarter of our lives, like some extended boot camp for the working class world, and afterward we pick an occupation that seems suitable to our skills and move along with the flow of society never suspecting there could be more than the nine to five, never expecting to be fulfilled, but perhaps merely satisfied with a meager life full of self-centered trifles and the occasional pang of guilt in their guts, weighing them down and poisoning them like a lead ball. The guilt is the hunger of the soul and its' begging to be sated, though so few realize the great empty they call life. And there are those that realize the great empty of the hungry soul and attempt to alleviate the guilt by cutting open the guts and tearing it right from their corroded stomach, they dream on and wither away just the same, except since their guilt is a realization, it is all the more painful to them. Alas, it is too early in the morning for me to touch upon such topics of thought. my mind is wandering too much at the moment to continue deep philosophical contemplation. Adieu.
(i shall continue more when my mental faculties are at full competence)
(i shall continue more when my mental faculties are at full competence)
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