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Larianne Jun 22
A famished black shadow
Under the footbridge
Literature professor ask us to write a poem inspired by Ezra Pound
Larianne Dec 2018
whats more important
than having the person you love in front of you
or being updated on social media?
Lack of attention
Waste of time
Don't lose what is real.
Larianne Dec 2018
To all the people who are killing me alive
I just want you to know that I am here
I'm not fake
And I am existing

To all the perfect people in the world
**** you are not perfect at all
Think about it, but not too much or you might get crazy

To all the parents out there
Take care of your kids and let them live their own life just support them on what they want.

To all the hypocrites
stop being a hypocrite
just be true and may the truth set you free.

To all the people who i have loved
You had your shot and gave it back
Now I'm not giving in no more

To all my friends who used to be my real friends
Go find someone who would want you to be a friend
And start being a good friend maybe ill work this time

To the people who is trying to **** themselves
Live okay? Don't leave just live
There are things that would mean a lot if you stay please stay  
Larianne Nov 2018
Bakit siya,hindi ako
Kaibigan mo at kaibigan ko
Mahal ka ,minahal ko
Oo nga pala Kaibigan lang ako

Masaya ako kung masaya siya
Masaya siya kung kasama ka
Naging masaya kayo
Ng iniwan niyo ako ng may distansiya

Sinubukan kong maging masaya
Kahit hindi niyo ako kasama
Unting unting nagdurusa
Umiiyak mag isa

Nag lalakad ng nag lalakad
Bawat hakbang pinag mamasdan
Hangang saan hangang kaylan
Ang pag mamahal na dapat saakin lamang
My Filipino3 subject ask as to write a poem for 10 minutes and that's it.
  Nov 2018 Larianne
It's too easy to be a poet sometimes.
It's too easy to get lost in the words,
To expand your vocabulary until you're in a world
So different to reality that none of the pain reaches you.
And sometimes I think my biggest shame isn't what I carry,
It's what I express onto paper and share with others.
Every metaphor is a piece of armour, metal and shimmering in the sun,
Beautiful but, most of all, protective of me.
The truth is, I wasn't attacked by shadows on walls,
Or poltergeists that wreak havoc on my existence.
The truth is, one day three men attacked me,
And I've been covering up the truth in poetry ever since.
See, if you can turn humans into gargoyles,
Twist them into these evil, mythological beings,
You can pretend it's all just written art,
And whatever the reader says is what is.
That these demons from a level of Hell so dark
That it must be located inside of a black hole,
They're creative entities whose sole purpose in a poem
Is for the reader to interpret them how they see fit.
But whenever I write about those demons, I'm not a poet.
I'm the writer equivalent of the guy getting high in his dark, lonely room,
Blocking out memories in words just fantastical enough
To pretend that nothing ever really happened.
Metaphor-less for once, but still practicing the art of doublespeak.
  Nov 2018 Larianne
CJ Hattingh
Broken and chained
When will this suffering end?
Will I ever be free of you and your spiteful love
or will we be forever friends?
I would choose otherwise
but this is the pain I grew to love.
I miss you like the
Cloudless night sky would miss stars
If they were stolen.
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