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I Am a WriterI am a writer.
Yes, it’s easy for me to fall into a dream.
But there is nothing wrong with being tighter
With a story’s theme.

I am a writer.
That is all I will ever want to be
In the end, my story will be lighter,
And my characters will finally be free.

I am a writer.
There is nothing easier to say than that.
I will never let a story wither
Nor let a story fall flat

I am a soon to be author.
With several books ready to be read,
I want them to have great honor
And wish there will be tears shed.

To HooverHoover state: waking up to sleep
because that’s all I’m good for;
out of work, out of time again
and my brother won’t spare a dime.

Blanket sweat reminds me of this
Hoover state: waking up to sleep
in depressions of this planet;
the moon weeps for me in daytime.

I yank my pockets out, like it's
my country's flag; punch-line of the
Hoover state: waking up to sleep
in my sagging skin on decline.

I've no penny to my name,
jumping out the window (one
last time) makes me worth more in this
Hoover state: waking up to sleep.

Twinkle StarTwinkle twinkle little star
Noone cares just who you are
When you fall the fall is far
Twinkle twinkle superstar.

Pieces of chessKings and pawns are all the same
All but pieces in a game
A stroke of luck
A touch of ill fate
Decides in the end who will be
Checkmate

The Soldier's Letter To HomeI write this from my death bed
My eyes fading in the light
Drowned in crimson red,
Drowned in shaking fright.
The enemy has won
The war now has ended
And though killed by my son
May his sins be ammended.
For this is Civil War
I cannot change the tide
So from you I implore
Do what is right.

Bury me somewhere nice
Near, and fair to look at
And forgive my son his sins;
For in war, no one wins.

Take Death's HandI do not fear Death.
My life has been long enough.
It's time I take my last breath.
I shall not rebuff.
Death stands by my side,
his hand extended for me to take.
His face is veiled like that of a bride.
This life I now forsake
as Death takes me away.
I do not regret
for I am free of the fray.
Please do not fret
for I am okay.

~Evil creatures~

They're evil creatures in the night
Lurking in the shadows but still seeing there sight
From they're pale skin and glowing eyes
Out there graves they will rise
Moaning and groaning is what you hear
Your body will soon fill with fear

They walk or run in a fast pace
Here they come for the chase
Get ready for the fear
Coming through the door they are here
Board up the windows to keep them away
This is the place you don't want to stay

It's too late now they're breaking in
It's a fight you may not win
Grab you shotgun prepare for the fight
This battle may last all night
Pain and blood come from your arm
A bite from these creatures can cause muc

Aur si plumbUn gând de aur, dar se simte
mai greu ca un pumnal de plumb
ce intră-n coaste, se învârte,
și caută să iasă prin minte...
Stilou de aur, scrie versuri,
dar lasă urme ca de plumb,
pe foi mânjite de cerneală,
și de cafea, și alte resturi...

Un glonţ de aur, dar se simte
mai tandru ca o zi de plumb,
îl pun aici, închid capacul,
și ca un gând, îl scot prin minte.

EndlingHere am I, the captive thylacine
Treading my tiger-striped, ungainly way
Around the metal-mesh confinement of my cage
Here am I, exhibited, exhumed
Brought from the brink to pace another day
A living testament, a final thumbmarked page
Here am I, the only specimen
Bereft of mate, of pups, of kin, of kind
Watching the claws of history extending
Here am I, the final thylacine
The only one, the last, the lost, the endling.

Who Was HeHe stood at the average height for men.
His built was quite average.
His eyes were that of cyan.
Nonetheless, he was average.

His hair was that of blonde,
Nearly, white.
His walk and personality had a great bond.
He was a confident sight.

His skin was a delicate peach.
His muscles were quite firm.
So irresistible, a teasing reach.
His appearance had its own term.

One that the dictionary cannot confirm.

Who was he?
That man with his own sea?
He was one without a name.
His appearance was a taunting game.
He was one without a number for an age.
Forget it, he’s fake on this page.

SuicideThere's no blood on her hands
Bullet holes in the door
Nothing but colored pills
And her lying on the floor

You look at her face
There's despair in her eyes
And you wonder what she thought
As she fell and died

And maybe you're begging her to come back
And maybe you're asking why she let go
The hurt in your chest feels like a heart attack
And now you finally know

Maybe you could've helped her
If you'd looked past your own nose
Maybe she'd be alive now
You had a chance, this is what you chose
Now maybe you'll learn from things
That you didn't see
Maybe you'll open your eyes
And rescue him, or her, or me
Maybe she cried a prayer
For the oth

Last RoadTwo people, both alike in personality,
Shared a home where the scene was played,
From shattered souls to new beginnings,
Where screams were heard on this doomsday.
From golden moons crisp as the sun,
A mother who has not yet won,
The illness will strive until the deed is done,
Even if the daughter has not begun.
The road that lies ahead,
Is now a mother who is dead,
With hugs and kisses that are gone,
The daughter who will beat them all;
Thy which your eyes and ears can pretend,
What here shall be a transformation undid.

WarWhen stories of battle are shared,
They are full of fame and glory.
No one knows what war really holds,
That is, until they hear this story.
At first there is much excitement,
Your chance to be a hero.
Then homesickness begins to set in,
The sorrow makes you feel like zero.
Then the supplies get cut off,
Your stomach cries out for food.
It rains then it droughts, and then you want out,
You'd laugh at your situation but you're not in the mood.
No sanitation, no garbage cans,
You are living in human waste.
The tents are torn up, the beds full of lice,
You wish you were in a different place.
Then you finally go to fight,
This is your chance to prove yourself.
All your comrades are shot down,
So much for fame and wealth...
Cleaning up the bodies,
Of those who used to be your friends.
Not even time for a proper burial,
Too many injuries to attend.
Then there's the sneak attack,
You are all caught by surprise.
A brutal, bloody, massacre,
A bullet between your eyes.
In this little game o

One WindowOne window is all I need
To see the world for what it truly is
With my mind a system of creed.
My talent can depict or dismiss
This world of goals, so hear my heed.

I sit down beside a journal,
My fingers clutching a pencil.
I will make my character’s life spiral
And send them off to a council
Where they must advance through the next trial.

One window is all I need
To watch them afar a long, hazy field,
Where I can study their speed
Of understanding when they will yield
Of life, itself, so they need to hear my heed.

My character’s goal,
As well as mine,
Is to be whole
And see how bright life can shine
Even through the darkness

Up above the world so high OneUp above the world so high
One small step to surely die

Goodbye pain worry and stress
Leave in one expressive beautiful final mess

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my concepts

i range between a social outcast and socialy equipped person.
it depends on the day.
dont understimate me.
i make things happen instead of waiting for them.
i plan shit out its stupid not to.
yeah things might not go right and you might be let down but what about when everyhting goes right?
what then?
for me i get the to have the knowledge of having something to do with what goes on in my life.
what about you?
ok so now what about stuff that just happens? those are great and everything but do you get the same feeling of deserving the goods if your not doing anything totry to get it?i dont.
i know what i want im not just going to

living dead then lovewhy is it that hes the only one capable of raising my pulse?
or making my heart skip a beat?
i mean so little to him in comparison to him to me.
how can he have such a great power that he doesnt want or even acknowledge?
he is my everything.
no one has yet to even compare.
i try to leave room to hope that someday i will find someone/ or be found by someone who will make all the pain i have left from him go away knowing in my subconscious
that could never possibly happen because no one will ever be able to get through the huge lock and key i have around my emotions.
i feel bad for the people who surround there selves around me.
they'l

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SOMETHINGISTRULYWRONGWITHME

by ~devilsrose666, May 14, 2005, 2:56:46 PM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Traditional Fixed Forms

Something must be wrong with me
with all this hurt inside,
always bursting with anger,
and never any pride.

Something must be wrong with me
if all I do is cry,
I can't stop this pain
all I want to do is die.

Something must be wrong with me
if my emotions run wild,
all this confusion does
is make me feel like a lost child.

Something must be wrong with me
with all these terrible things,
always there and never gone
depression is what it brings.

Something must be wrong with me
if I can't stop these thoughts,
all this pain does
is turn my stomach in knots.

Something is truly wrong with me
when I think there's only one way out,
"Let this pain end,"
is all my heart will shout.

SOMETHINGISTRULYWRONGWITHMEby ~devilsrose666

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Traditional Fixed Forms

©2005-2013 ~devilsrose666

UM.. i dont like describing my poems

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~babyxxxkat Jun 4, 2005

Nice. Youre style of writing is very emotional, i shall watch you, You write a little like me, not to brag lol, thats a complement.!lol

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~devilsrose666 Jun 4, 2005 Hobbyist General Artist

lol thanx i shall look at your gallery!! hehehe

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~babyxxxkat Jun 5, 2005

im gettin the hang of it lol

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~devilsrose666 Jun 6, 2005 Hobbyist General Artist

getting the hang of what?

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~babyxxxkat Jun 6, 2005

i dunno lol

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~devilsrose666 Jun 6, 2005 Hobbyist General Artist

lmao

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~babyxxxkat Jun 6, 2005

lol

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~devilsrose666 Jun 6, 2005 Hobbyist General Artist

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~redeemerofdarkness May 17, 2005 Student Photographer

very deep i like this one
very emotional
good going

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~devilsrose666 May 18, 2005 Hobbyist General Artist

thanx!

its kinda like what you get out of photography

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