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Literature Text
Rotting bodies,
Sunken eyes,
Broken necks,
And empty lies.
Wasted life
And pained expressions.
No reflection
And false impressions.
Bloody wrist
And bloody blade.
Burning soul
And sinfulness weighed.
Blackened tears
And lost desire.
Forgotten woes
And eternal fire.
Sunken eyes,
Broken necks,
And empty lies.
Wasted life
And pained expressions.
No reflection
And false impressions.
Bloody wrist
And bloody blade.
Burning soul
And sinfulness weighed.
Blackened tears
And lost desire.
Forgotten woes
And eternal fire.
Literature
Letter to Markiplier
Dear Mark,
Well I guess a friendly letter should always start out with telling you who I am…Hello I’m Morgan. I’m a ‘fangirl’ just like all the rest I suppose…but hey I’m not afraid to admit that. I’m a ‘Fangirl’ of you for many good reasons. Though I don’t like to bring up the things that make us sad I do wish to say that our lives run on a few very prominent parallels. One of the parallels I speak of is one I hate the most…I know the feeling of helplessness when those who are closest to you are on the verge of death and there is nothing you can do. I was
Literature
If I Met Markiplier
We meet at last
You are YOU
I am no one
to be remembered
Merely one of
countless thousands
to have had the honor
To you it is nothing really
all in a days work
To me it is everything
A dream come true
A warm smile, a handshake
It is done
Your parade moves on
The pedestal gleaming
All in a days work as you
smile tiredly at the next fan
Heaven can not compare
Thinks I
The daydream over
I move to the mundane
It was Heaven while it lasted
Literature
maybe you'll find this
i want to tell you so much
like how one day you'll meet a kid
who steps on butterflies for fun
and you'll probably hate him
but i want you to think about the possibility that
maybe someone stepped on his wings
and he can't understand how they can fly but he
can't.
.
or like another kid who slit your friend's wrist with the glass from the library door
and killed a snake by thrashing its skull on the sidewalk
and kicked a kitten who had just been run over that morning and was barely holding on.
you'll probably hate him, too.
and i want you to remember
that russian orphanages are no place to learn morals
that severe brain damage is permanent i
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Comments3
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You have a great rhythm going in this piece. It almost has a sing-song rhythm, which makes it all the more haunting. I think there are a couple hiccups in this pattern. IF they are intentional, great, if not please be aware that this does draw your reader's attention to these breaks in the pattern. I think that you play with a lot of visceral imagery in this piece, but at time I wonder if you can stretch them a little farther.