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  Jan 2018 fagaveli
H Phone
Mistake.
A miss taken.
A misstep taken.
A misstep is all it takes.
A misstep takes it all.
Take a misstep, all breaks.
A misstep is all it takes to break.
A misstep is all it takes to break your spirit.

Do you know the feeling
of adding onto a mistake?
Switching, twisting, making it more appealing,
but no matter what you make,
what it used to be leaves an imprint on the paper.
Black on white.
Wrong on right.

Don’t you wish it wasn’t so?

But you can’t delete your save data, like in some game.
You can’t just start over, blank slate, new avatar, new name.
The system will never forget;
On that, you can place your bet.
And in case you’re wondering why...

Regret.

Like a whirlpool out of control,
like a rampant snowball,
runaway, amassing all
intrusive memories it can gather,
moments and details you would rather
forget, but the fact that you remember makes you madder!
And it is as such with all matter.

Mistakes leave a stain
on your brain.
Wipe the muck?
No such luck.
Because that’s not how the world works, you see?
The way of the universe is entropy.
Entropy is a measure of the chaos in the universe. Everything adds to it, nothing can remove it.
  Jan 2018 fagaveli
Chelsea Rae
You might as well call yourself God
Instead of believing in Him.

The way you try to force your way.
You break
and
                     bend me,
trying to make a
"perfect"
mold of your angel child.

I am sorry but I am just not made that way.
I am brittle, I have been forged with fire and this is me.
I am no longer wet clay that your muddy hands can shape.

I am as evil as the devil himself,
at least to you.
I can see it in your eyes.
A fallen angel, not like the other ones you have now.
My fellow siblings with their wings ripped off
because I showed them what it's like to fly.
Can't have them using their own minds.

I may be ****** but no matter what you command,
no matter your petty, useless demands
I am free.
I am my own sculpture.
This is me.
Love being out of my parents house.
I am the disappointing child.
**** your rules and opinions.
  Jan 2018 fagaveli
Leonard Cohen
Well my friends are gone and my hair is grey
I ache in the places where I used to play
And I'm crazy for love but I'm not coming on
I'm just paying my rent every day
Oh in the Tower of Song
I said to Hank Williams: how lonely does it get?
Hank Williams hasn't answered yet
But I hear him coughing all night long
A hundred floors above me
In the Tower of Song
I was born like this, I had no choice
I was born with the gift of a golden voice
And twenty-seven angels from the Great Beyond
They tied me to this table right here
In the Tower of Song
So you can stick your little pins in that voodoo doll
I'm very sorry, baby, doesn't look like me at all
I'm standing by the window where the light is strong
Ah they don't let a woman **** you
Not in the Tower of Song
Now you can say that I've grown bitter but of this you may
be sure
The rich have got their channels in the bedrooms of the poor
And there's a mighty judgement coming, but I may be wrong
You see, you hear these funny voices
In the Tower of Song
I see you standing on the other side
I don't know how the river got so wide
I loved you baby, way back when
And all the bridges are burning that we might have crossed
But I feel so close to everything that we lost
We'll never have to lose it again
Now I bid you farewell, I don't know when I'll be back
There moving us tomorrow to that tower down the track
But you'll be hearing from me baby, long after I'm gone
I'll be speaking to you sweetly
From a window in the Tower of Song
Yeah my friends are gone and my hair is grey
I ache in the places where I used to play
And I'm crazy for love but I'm not coming on
I'm just paying my rent every day
Oh in the Tower of Song
  Jan 2018 fagaveli
Robert Frost
The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree

Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.
  Jan 2018 fagaveli
Mary Elizabeth Frye
Do not stand at my grave and weep..
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awake in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft star-shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry..
I am not there. I did not die.
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