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Literature Text
Why does a moth fly
Directly into the flame?
Perhaps its captivated
By the beauty to be found
In such pure recreation
Or perhaps
It flies so surely
Into its own death
Because it believes
The flames of rebirth
Will allow it a second chance
At metamorphosis,
And perhaps that this time...
It will appear a butterfly.
Perhaps this is the only thing
It can force itself to believe
While it burns.
Directly into the flame?
Perhaps its captivated
By the beauty to be found
In such pure recreation
Or perhaps
It flies so surely
Into its own death
Because it believes
The flames of rebirth
Will allow it a second chance
At metamorphosis,
And perhaps that this time...
It will appear a butterfly.
Perhaps this is the only thing
It can force itself to believe
While it burns.
Literature
I can't write poetry for dead girls.
there are too
many pills in this
world and too
much misery in
the human heart
but that didn't mean
that you could just
up and leave when
we both know it
could have gotten better
and i miss you like
a wolf misses her pack
or a goddamn dragon misses
her fire and i'm sorry
that i can't give you
a bouquet of jasmines
(they were your
favorite, after all,
because that was
the only princess
with a pet tiger)
because poppies are
too cliche and i'm
sorry i wasn't there
when all you needed
was a hug and for someone
to whisper "it's okay,
you're perfect enough
for me, don't listen
to that junkie bitch
who just happened to
give birth to you" and did
Literature
Let the Fall Make You Stronger.
"Hey! Are you all right?"
"Sure, why wouldn't I be?"
"Um...because you just fell from the roof of the hou-"
"See, that's where you're wrong. I didn't fall. The floor challenged me and I accepted."
"And how did that go for you?"
"The floor won. But only because it had the advantage."
"Of being non sentient and vast in size, along with the fact that there is a freaking storm out!!"
"Nope. I just attacked from the wrong position."
"Backwards?"
"I overestimated my skills."
"I'll say. You're bleeding!"
"Only a little. Ask me again."
"What?"
"If I'm fine."
"Are you?"
"Nope."
"Is it because you're bleeding?"
"You're supposed to ask
Literature
What's Left Behind...
Some days I find myself staggering from this hovel;
To stand with shaking legs upon the window ledge.
I look down at the tiny world below, wind rushing before me;
And I wonder if I'll be able to fly tonight...
The caress of the wind, so gentle upon my skin.
One step, one leap and I'd dip myself into the eye of the storm.
But just before my courage sends me;
Just before I take the final plunge.
I find myself looking back, at the world I'd leave behind...
Stacks of paper and a pot of ink,
Reams of stories too precious to burn.
Ideas and fears both rolled into one;
And pages of poetry left undone...
It always leaves me smiling...
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I thought of this three months ago and i just now finished the thought. Talk about perseverance. Ok so everyone plzzz favorrite this T.T i haven't been on the cover in two months. I know its selfish to ask but the continual failures are killing my confidence. and if u dont favorite at least comment so i know what im doing wrong.
Hope everyone enjoys
© 2014 - 2024 CrumbledWings
Comments59
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Also, to the previous comments mentioning the punctuation, I don't feel that you need it at all. The sentences themselves punctuate the thoughts by the fact that you separate them. I too, write thus way and people often critique my style, but I feel that it gives the poem a uniqueness that cannot be replicated. Keep writing in your own style and don't let anyone change you! If you ever publish a collection, I would love to purchase it!