I was trying to draw inspiration from the air around me. But all I ended up with were short gasp and a rejuvinated distaste for concious breath.
Through my eyes the world seemed depleted. Any type of beauty in the form of origianality was gone and I wasnt sure I could drag any kind of poetic justice from the depths of this type of contamination.
Scentence fragments and statments ending in semi-colons thrashed about the edge of my lips; I couldn't seem to finish anythng I started...
I figured there would be some type of literary device that could save me from this multi-faceted melodrama.
Doesnt life turn itself into a revolving script?
Where the lines are cheep and the punch lines are punch drunk. We were cast in then cast aside because we weren't witty enough. Life doesnt have time for second rate acting no matter how much passion seeps from your words.
They keep screaming cut but I'm begging for a break.
Author notes
I am not quite sure what this is. I just let my hand hit the paper and take over.
A contest entry
- Is Dirty Pretty a Lost Cause? by Hell In Harmony.
6500 points, ended July 22, 2008, 37 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - The Largest Contest On AP!!!! by xxRainbowDawnxx.
3000 points, ended August 26, 2008, 1668 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
End Scene
Comments
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I was trying to draw inspiration from the air around me. But all I ended up with were short gasp and a rejuvinated distaste for concious breath.
good intro.
Scentence fragments and statments ending in semi-colons thrashed about the edge of my lips; I couldn't seem to finish anythng I started...
great irony
the beginning was stronger than the end though.thankssss
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