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anonymous-authorx1
Never writes from their own perspective
"Its just a game," Is what you say, "and that's all it'll ever be." But I beg to differ, Because you're wrong. And here's why- you see: A game is made              of a story. And stories are often                       an incredible thing.                                   And by this logic, I do believe                                                                          this makes a game                                                                        worth playing. And you may insult me as you wish, because after all, "It's just a game." But sometimes what you think is lame, Is where others' imagination came And went and made A beautiful game, For all the world             to see                    and play.
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Sep 29, 2017
Sep 29, 2017 at 12:09 AM UTC
Video games
As the ball hit the stone The sound resonated Throughout the room I had already scratched Another mark into the wall To signify that Another day had passed But somehow It felt like no time Had passed at all I was lonely And every day Felt like the same day Because nothing Ever happened I'm just locked Inside a room And I'm alone And I am lonely I wish I could at least Have some kind Of company, At least So I wouldn't Be alone But sometimes It's even too much To ask For something Like that
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Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 9:05 PM UTC
Lone Cell
My words are always Just my opinion And sometimes I'm happy that it just is During conversations, While the topic is about me I can't help but talk poorly About anything That I can About myself When the topic is about another I can't help but praise Anything That I can About them My opinion of myself Is different Than the opinion of others They say I am kind That I am helpful That I care I do care I want to be kind I want to be helpful They say I am I can't believe that it's the truth I want to know That they're lying That they just want me To believe that I am The person they make me out to be But I know they're not And I can't help but smile At just the thought of that Everywhere I go They say the same things And it makes me happy To know that I'm not the person I think I am Just knowing That I'm kind And that I'm helpful Is enough for me To know I'm a good person
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Jan 13, 2016
Jan 13, 2016 at 9:37 PM UTC
Opinion
I walked Down the stairs, Deciding That the elevator Would take Too long And just be A waste Of my time The day was done Nothing else Was left For me to do All I needed To do Was go home I stopped by The receptionist's desk With brown eyes And red hair, She smiled at me And I smiled back Those beautiful glasses In front of those wonderful eyes I stopped to wonder How I hadn't noticed her before It's probably Because I've been busy I don't have time To mingle But maybe once I could take some time To talk With this wonderful woman Behind this wooden desk It could be nice To spend time With someone else, But I'll never know If I never try I always like to imagine But some times it's better To live it
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Jan 12, 2016
Jan 12, 2016 at 9:28 PM UTC
Receptionist
Slowly He walks It's not like Anything is making him Have to go faster Than he is going Frail bones shake and tremble as they move A weak smile is on a wrinkled face He sits Unsure of what to do Getting from one place to another Is not quite exciting A lamp hangs above him And he looks up at the light It is warm It is soothing The room is quiet and lonely No one is seen but him As he sits beneath the light A golden glow shines upon him The youth has been drained from his being But not from his eyes Or his smile Or his laughter Or his voice He is happy He is smiling Though he is lonely He feels content The light continues to shine The man continues to stare He waits Until the light flickers And is gone But he is still smiling He is still content Just because you're alone Doesn't mean you can't be happy
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Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 8:51 PM UTC
Content
There’s a knock on the door You’re scared to go near The sounds of the knocking Is all that you hear The room was silent And once it was calm But then came the knocking And you realized You were wrong You walk up to the door And peek through the hole But to your surprise There’s no one to behold You open the door And look down at the step There’s no one to see But there’s something they’ve left A gift wrapped in green With a bow that is red You don’t pick it up But you wonder instead You pick up the box And place it inside When you open the lid There’s quite a surprise The present you’re given Makes you smile quite wide I wonder what it was That that person Placed inside
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Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 8:41 PM UTC
A Knock At the Door
I pick up the items Littering the floor They didn’t mean much To anyone Anymore I stared at the picture Hanging on the wall I was the smallest And my brother was tall I looked back at objects Flat on the ground One caught my attention While it just laid around I picked up the radio Thin sleek and black I turned it right on And the memories came back The music that played Was not the same in the past But the radio still counted At least the memory surpassed
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Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 8:07 PM UTC
Radio
The snow so white Lays on the ground Falling gently Without a sound My winter boots They trudge with me Through snowy roads And icy streets The world is cold And I am too Days after blizzards Are not ones that I rue Back at my doorstep My walk has come to an end I hope to come out soon And go walk again
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Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 7:56 PM UTC
A Walk In Winter
Back in time, If one had the chance to look, To see, Or to relive A moment In time That one Could not Experience, What time Would it be One would go? I still Hear the voices And I still See the faces Of the people My mistakes Have hurt. I look back At what I have done, At what is done, At what cannot be fixed. At the pain, And the suffering, One being’s actions Can cause. If I could go Back in time I would right Every wrong, I would help Everyone, I would fix Every mistake I had ever even made, Just so I Would never have To look, To see, To relive, Or remember Any moment In time I have ruined I am sorry
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Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 7:47 PM UTC
Sorry
Running away from your problems What makes one think It will make their problems Go Away? One’s problems Will never truly leave them But that doesn’t mean you can’t Run away from them But no matter how much you run From the problems at hand New ones will occur Though it is still possible to run away But every time you run You will always meet more problems Even if Your old ones Are gone If you stand up to a problem It does not mean you can overcome it It means you can try But it does not mean you can succeed Sometimes We don’t know How we are supposed To handle a problem And we try To solve our problems In a way that makes sense Before We actually try it When one attempts To overcome their problems They must think Not only of how This could affect them But how It could affect others Whether it be a victim Whether it be a culprit Whether it be another A problem can be solved But this does not mean We know how to solve it
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Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 7:42 PM UTC
Runaway