To be a writerTo be a writer, A true writer, Is to live for a passion that holds threats of Inhabiting a cardboard box.To be a writer
To be a writer, Is to be in touch
with your unique spirit. Whether it be
Imagination abound, rhythmic and profound,
Or sorrowful and sappy, A piece of you
Comes out in writing, And brings that piece From within others to life.
You spend hours, To fill a tree’s worth of notebooks, Or an endless matrix of word documents; With chapter after chapter, Stanza after stanza, And then usually o
Green Way
When the Wind BlowsShe reached the end of the road and collapsed on the street. She clutched her heart with her hand, steadying her body with the other on the frozen winter ground. She gasped as she tried to breath, a different coldness taking over her besides the weather. Tears streamed down her face and a ragged sob escaped her mouth. A pain lanced through her shoulder, making her wince. Icy wind gusted around her, but she was oblivious to its freezing touch. A hole opened in her heart, a hole where something precious had once been. Love. It had seemed like so long ago…When the Wind Blows
“So Jake, who are you taking to the Winter Solstice dance?
Devious Journal Entry
Guilty
--
It is a defeat of the spirit to learn that one's arrogance causes such loss and pain. Pride invites you to soar heights of personal triumph, but the winds are stronger at those heights and the footing tentative. Farther then is the fall.
--
Ask me about barnacles, you won't regret it. (sometimes, it is what you've got, not just where you stick it.)
--
It is a defeat of the spirit to learn that one's arrogance causes such loss and pain. Pride invites you to soar heights of personal triumph, but the winds are stronger at those heights and the footing tentative. Farther then is the fall.
--
temperament of pure melancholy
Previous Page12345Next Page