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Literature Text
a horrible stench
from my maw
a mind possessed
food... food... food...
this hunger mauls
and it's so pink
alive and raw
like the organs
cannibalized
by this animal,
my starving body
from my maw
a mind possessed
food... food... food...
this hunger mauls
and it's so pink
alive and raw
like the organs
cannibalized
by this animal,
my starving body
Literature
Fly...
So today,
I came to the end
Of this long long road.
Journey of years.
Always wondered where
I was going.
Through storm and
Trackless sand dunes
Never knowing where
I was going.
I have reached the end.
No more road.
I am at an airport.
Only way out is
Fly...
Literature
The Letter
Of me it always gets the better
A reminder of what you once were
It will stick to me no what what will occur
A piece of parper with so much meaning
A memory of the smile beaming
The memories tend to flow
It will always be a comfort to know
The degree of happiness that came
Of how you took my heart to claim
You may be distant from my heart
But the paper gives my day a start
The words you wrote are slowly fading
My mind is always one you're raiding
The moonlilght still shines below
Gleaming memories from a freshly fallen snow
The summer nights still remind me of the night
When your smile pierced through with an angel's light
No matter how
Literature
Life Gives You Laurels
These are the things they don’t tell you.
That one day there will be tears
you can’t kiss and make better.
Or that you will stand at a precipice
reaching into dark fathoms,
directionless in your turmoil.
They don’t tell you that
sometimes lovers leave and
you’re left bleeding without a hospital.
They don’t tell you that
cancer isn’t just a disease of the body,
but also a condition of the
heart, mind, and soul.
These are the things they don’t tell you,
when everything is pink with glee
and knights shimmer, plated in
nickel with traces of lead,
riding in on knob-kneed steeds
about to die of
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For FlawedLiterature wedLiterature the January fourth prompt: the color of hunger
My poem. My work. All mine. I'm responsible. No stone-throwing or "borrowing" please.
My poem. My work. All mine. I'm responsible. No stone-throwing or "borrowing" please.
Comments3
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This is very good, I like how you used the pink.