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Creator Sun Aug 30
Her mouth twists into a smile.
A couple of hours later it becomes a frown.
It looks a little lopsided, doesn't it?
One arm is longer than the other; and faster.

But she doesn't care. Nobody does.
She smiles and frowns all day.
For she is but a servant tell,
the true master of the day.

Time.
It reaches out to us.
Tells us what to do and when to do it.

Time.
An age old foe.
For no one can escape it's cages.

Time.
A fabrication of the mind.
It traps us all in it's never ending orbit.

Time.
It's just like a dime.
Our future depends on how we use it.
I've picked this word to write a poetry about today since I'd gone off schedule due to falling sick. So here's a poem about time and its servant. clock. We all have the same amount of hours a day, so why are some people able to keep everything on track while others fall to vices such as procrastination? I've been watching a few Ted Talks and the monkey one stuck out to me. Also the paperclip for a house. Anyways, I'll end the note now and get on to writing another poem. I do hope that you enjoy a new experimental writing style I've used!
Eyithen May 6
I am struggling to find my place in a world that is looking to plunge a knife between the chinks of my armor.
A world that will **** as quick as is it is to defend.
William Troup Apr 15
My wrath did grow, my foe did not;
   my faith did slow in all my knots!
My heart did slow, my foes did not;
   my dream did flow in all my plots!

Their malice was watered
   with tears, from fears, my face did show;
   their monuments grow!

My garden was bare, my foes was not;
   my soul in bloom with all my clots!
My morning was lost, my foes was not;
   my evening defaced in all my spots!

Their malice did bore
   these tears, in fear, my heart of stone;
   their triumphs known!
RixusPrime Mar 20
All the glory I sought,
and all the pain I brought.
I wrought havoc to all those who incurred my wrath.

A demigod in my way,
and destruction grew in my stay.
I vanquished all those who opposed me in my wake.

But what brought about this madness and created endless sadness?
It was envy and greed,
the curse of the weak.

The betrayal of my friend,
was the birth of a foe.
But to what end?
Treachery and lies,
they brought him joy and great pride,
and in the end, death with great spite.
Who are you?
A boat for me to paddle
Or a paddle for my boat

Are you for me?
Or are you against me?

Let every controversy lay aside
Let every pretence stand void
Identify your warrior
Clear your disbelief.
Mane Omsy Dec 2018
Take a saw
And cut me down deeply
Slowly,
Starting from my head
Through my heart,
Down to my sick belly
So, I could feel the agony
You poured on me
Vengeance might be a way
But I will settle down for a say
Like a boiling water on ice
Dripping the pain into my veins
You shall succeed being a monster
A stranger after all we did
Together, snitching out on me
Being suspended from work with my friend snitching on me (lies actually). There is nothing but pain for what he had done after all we have been through.
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