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Tick, tick, tick
That sound, constant in my head,
A sound that haunts every mind,
A sound that brings fear,
A clock,
Ticking the secondes of your life away,
Making life shorter and shorter with every tick,
Drawing death nearer and nearer,
But toi should not live in fear,
For life is too short for such a thing,
Some people waste these precious seconds,
Others treasure them, making sure that no tick is wasted,
The clock ticks on,
But as this sound is registered,
What do toi do?
Tick, tick, tick
Three plus seconds, gone, like that,
Did toi use them well?
Live life,
For life is too short to spend these secondes in hell.
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Tick, tick, tick
That sound, constant in my head,
A sound that haunts every mind,
A sound that brings fear,
A clock,
Ticking the secondes of your life away,
Making life shorter and shorter with every tick,
Drawing death nearer and nearer,
But toi should not live in fear,
For life is too short for such a thing,
Some people waste these precious seconds,
Others treasure them, making sure that no tick is wasted,
The clock ticks on,
But as this sound is registered,
What do toi do?
Tick, tick, tick
Three plus seconds, gone, like that,
Did toi use them well?
Live life,
For life is too short to spend these secondes in hell.
His Melody
To quiet the tears
She sings him to sleep
When the morning has dawned
He can’t be roused from a rest so deep
She sings him to sleep
Night after night
And when he does not awaken
Her will to go on grows slight
She sits and waits while he’s away
She remembers his laugh and smile
Oh what a joy to see his joy
She lifts up a prayer “May I see him in a short while?”
She sits at the window and waits
The sun sets slowly behind the colline
The others say hello but she doesn’t hear
She is waiting to make the tears still
The time has come she cannot wait
She sets out to see her boy
To stop the tears
To bring him joy
But the tears she stills are not his
They fall from her eyes
She sings his lullaby again tonight
As she kisses the stone and her son good bye
To quiet the tears
She sings him to sleep
When the morning has dawned
He can’t be roused from a rest so deep
She sings him to sleep
Night after night
And when he does not awaken
Her will to go on grows slight
She sits and waits while he’s away
She remembers his laugh and smile
Oh what a joy to see his joy
She lifts up a prayer “May I see him in a short while?”
She sits at the window and waits
The sun sets slowly behind the colline
The others say hello but she doesn’t hear
She is waiting to make the tears still
The time has come she cannot wait
She sets out to see her boy
To stop the tears
To bring him joy
But the tears she stills are not his
They fall from her eyes
She sings his lullaby again tonight
As she kisses the stone and her son good bye
Dear record of my misfortune I was correct. Today I walked into class and saw a huge pile of letters on my desk. When I opened them I realized that it was hate mail. It was so stupid, people were getting angry at me for what I did to Jessica when it was her fault! They were saying things like : Die emo chienne die, bitchy whore. That last commentaire doesn't even apply to me! I haven't even had my first Kiss and they are saying this stuff to me! There was one letter that was bot mean even though I don't know who sent it. Inside it a dit roses are red violets are blue I don't now why they hurt you, if toi want I'll tell them to can it, all because I l’amour toi Janet. I don't know who wrote toi l’amour poem rhyme thing but I l’amour toi too!
Is It True toi Lie?
Is It True toi Hate Me?
Is It True toi Want Him?
Is It True You're My Best Friend?
Is It True toi Enjoy Hurting Me?
Is It True toi Like Me Crying?
Is It True toi Talk Behind My Back?
Is It True toi Tell People Our Bussiness?
Is It True I Hurt You?
Is It True toi Back Stabbed Me?
Is It True toi Let Me Believe The Lies?
Is It True toi Let Me Call toi My True Bestfriend When toi Weren't?
Is It True.....?
This is A Poem Hope Yuh Enjoy It Btw Tell Me What Yuh Think And This Is Just About Me Gettin Hurt After Being Stupid Enough To Believe Her Lies She Wasnt A True Bestfriend
Is It True toi Hate Me?
Is It True toi Want Him?
Is It True You're My Best Friend?
Is It True toi Enjoy Hurting Me?
Is It True toi Like Me Crying?
Is It True toi Talk Behind My Back?
Is It True toi Tell People Our Bussiness?
Is It True I Hurt You?
Is It True toi Back Stabbed Me?
Is It True toi Let Me Believe The Lies?
Is It True toi Let Me Call toi My True Bestfriend When toi Weren't?
Is It True.....?
This is A Poem Hope Yuh Enjoy It Btw Tell Me What Yuh Think And This Is Just About Me Gettin Hurt After Being Stupid Enough To Believe Her Lies She Wasnt A True Bestfriend
Her eyes were feu red,
as if they were
lit from anger.
I dont understand
why toi are
mad at me.
Why toi shoot
those harsh words
at me.
Aimed like bullets,
piercing my soul.
And It cant heal.
I never can dodge them.
The words hit me,
and I fall back.
My Friends ask me:
"What's wrong?"
"Can I help?"
But they cant help.
Because I dont understand,
why toi are mad.
Why do toi have to do
what toi do to me?
Why does it give toi
joy to harm me?
Why?
Why are people bullies?
Why dont my Friends take action?
Why cant toi tell me WHY?
as if they were
lit from anger.
I dont understand
why toi are
mad at me.
Why toi shoot
those harsh words
at me.
Aimed like bullets,
piercing my soul.
And It cant heal.
I never can dodge them.
The words hit me,
and I fall back.
My Friends ask me:
"What's wrong?"
"Can I help?"
But they cant help.
Because I dont understand,
why toi are mad.
Why do toi have to do
what toi do to me?
Why does it give toi
joy to harm me?
Why?
Why are people bullies?
Why dont my Friends take action?
Why cant toi tell me WHY?
Streetlamps, houses, gates, remotes, books, CDs and televisions. Brothers. Pairs. Each has a twin. In this chaotic place of materials the world has come to be, everything has a brother. But brothers are family. And family is connected somehow; if not par blood, then par what?
Energy.
Look hard. At everything that has a brother. A line of energy casts a connection between the two. The energy, with its harsh glares and cold looks creates the strongest and most complex bonds. Strong because of their brotherhood. Complex because of its invisibility. For there is power in invisibility. Cold, cruel power. The power to be a persecutor with no chance of being a victim. The power to twist and squeeze but not feel the wrenching pain of your twists.
Now, toi ask, what is left? Cruel, invisible energy. For a cruel, invisible world.
This is my first time écriture in stream of consciousness. I know it's short but don't judge me too harshly.
Energy.
Look hard. At everything that has a brother. A line of energy casts a connection between the two. The energy, with its harsh glares and cold looks creates the strongest and most complex bonds. Strong because of their brotherhood. Complex because of its invisibility. For there is power in invisibility. Cold, cruel power. The power to be a persecutor with no chance of being a victim. The power to twist and squeeze but not feel the wrenching pain of your twists.
Now, toi ask, what is left? Cruel, invisible energy. For a cruel, invisible world.
This is my first time écriture in stream of consciousness. I know it's short but don't judge me too harshly.
