These are my final thoughts
I've spoken too much already
wielded as a blade
your words have pierced me for the last time
Its my turn to fight
My turn to scream..
Yet my cries fall on deaf ears..
Listen! Goddammit why won't you listen!?
No medicine is strong enough for this
Nothing can dull this pain
I'm your sister
making another mistake
I'm your daughter
yet again disappointing
I'm your friend
Hoping you will see through my smile
I'm your student
Striving for Perfection
I am an angel..
fallen from heaven and stuck in this hell
Anonymous
10:19:34 PM
7 comments:
So, can someone please explain why my past decided on its own to write a poem and Tangst it?
This is scary in its pertinence to the past.
that is a little freaky...
I think in this work there is more to be said for the joy in releasing chaotic anger in an organized fashion and the feeling that results from doing so than the beauty of writing. Im pretty sure the OP felt better after writing this.
Examples such as these strengthen the Aristotilian cartharsis theory that applies to most works of literature.
I felt better.. but it changes nothing really in my life...
some write to remember
some write to forget
I write to LIVE
Hummm...
Good poem, but a little clichéd, IMHO.
Hmm, Maverick, it really pisses me off when people use the wrong eponymous adjective.
I love you, sir, but I believe you mean "Aristotelian."
Forgive me sir, I was rushed. I will take greater care in the future.
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