‘Who is that?’ He wondered. He noticed her walking past him and was stunned. He watched her walk past and looked back again for one more look. She was cute and curvy, two of his most favourite features to see in a woman. He wondered if he’d ever see her again. He hoped he would and maybe even they could talk. Captivated, he smiled. ‘It’s probably futile, she likely didn’t even see me, much less notice me.’She saw him, alr...
random thoughtson a rainy nightrain drops fallingthunder boominglighting crackingpower flickeringdog hidingwhere are the matchesand the candlesdarknesstripping over furnitureno TVtalk to my otherbring the A gamebegging to bedfinding the dogkissing cuddling making the movelights come onTV comes ondancing with the starshave I told you I hate the rain
This poem is the work of myself and a fellow poet, who is the most random friend I have in many ways. Thanks for helping to write this one, B! #Respect Our world is filledwith plans and schedulesWe are all-consumedwith that inexplicable restlessness,longing and sadness.Hectic paces keep ustired and stressed,pulling us awayfrom everything that really matters Everyone has a calendarthat religiously they follow.But no one ha...
Her side Dear who ever, I'm not sure why I decided to start writing in a diary, maybe because I would rather write it all out than say it to someone else... Even though I'm kind of just talking to myself ... But it doesn't matter, I still would rather talk to myself than someone else, cause really? Who's a better therapist? Some guy who sits in an uncomfortable chair all day who doesn't know me at all, or myself who I hav...
Life as a spoon. It was cold, and wet, no light anywhere, and I with my comrades would fight to stay alive!! Earlier that day we had been sent out to the front lines. We had fought against the dirtiest of things, and in doing so we ourselves were very unclean. This was a religious effort, everyday we would be sent out from our holding barracks and be sent out on duty leaving some behind awaiting their next mission. My mis...
I am sitting in my room, again... Nothing is changed. I am once again lonely, having nothing in the world but myself. Blinking, I wonder what is wrong with me. Is it a wrong wire in my brain? Is it a genetic defect I need to cut out of me? I am unsure as I move around the room. Glancing at the soft light of the screen, nothing on it just a blank page with the words this copy is not genuine, and a smiley face of the messen...
