Fragile, you say?
And that may partly be true,
but defenseless? I am not.
Even so, my body will try—
I will try—
everything pushes so I could be alive,
every single cell
wants me alive,
people that love me
want me alive...
I want to stay alive.
So as you hammer at my shield
and twist my thoughts cruely,
just know that I am not defenseless—
and I might give in,
but not without a fighting chance.
I will try until the very last second
because the only person wants this
I read somewhere that your body tries to keep you alive until it aboslutely can’t do anything to save you, and that inspired me.
A light cry, gentle and small
The scent of fresh flowers
A new and confusing world
A story every corner
Laughs and smiles all around
Something I'd love to explore
How boring things are in this old world
The toxic smell of smog and odor
My life leading down the drain,
Time to see things for myself
Experience my life
Forgetting all past mistakes
Leading out of sadness
I remember what has passed
My own clock slowly stops
But I would never change it.
Though my imprint was so small
I smile and leave with flowers.
I got a writing prompt about writing about someone's life and this is what I came up with!
Your Sleeps Just begun
The Battle Is Over:
The A.I's Have Won
when You Grow Up
Your Body Will Be
A Battery For The Robot Army
Let's make a happy day
one you're sure to remember;
first, you must learn to play
the game of life with splendor.
The mind can't be a fool
and be very one-sided,
to focus on the cruel
is a little misguided.
Second, you are willing
to let yourself just unwind,
nice times are still fulfilling
in a good state of mind.
Leave worry for after
because one day isn't much,
loads of good and laughter
is an excellent touch.
Third and last, be comfy
go somewhere that you'd enjoy,
maybe get a buddy
or someone that won't annoy.
And that's a happy day,
a list to its very core,
but it's harder to be done;
if no guidelines are ignored
there will be assured fun!
I felt happy today and I wanted to make a poem that reflected that.
Red waves flow at the rocky shore,
crimson ate at the rapidly dying sand,
engulfing it slowly with what the river had bore,
supplying it with life straight to its core.
Don’t take a dip at the boiling pool,
be craven from touching for it’ll demand
to engulf you into a river of heat for its fuel,
for the hungry glow follows no man’s rule.
And be not convinced by its beguiling beam
since obeisance is what it does not understand
and by Pallas it does scheme,
before it has your final breath be screams.
A flood of blazes crackled through the town
crashing at the quaint and old into the land,
hastening bitter and searing waves falling down
an event so grand and so renowned.
But as a tide grows ever so high,
closing into the Seraphim at God’s right hand;
near midday, it gently ceases until it dies,
and the last red drop that treads does dry.
First Poem posted :)
— The End —