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J Fawn Aug 20
A little girl stood by the path
Her heart out on a platter
Many people walked on by
And none of them saw her
By and by a wolf came past
And took a little nibble
Away back to his house of glass
He ran to chew on kibble
And then a kindly granny came
And gave a gentle pat
On her heart and on her head
As if she were a cat
Soon after came a bearded huntsman
Armed with axe and bow
He did not want that heart of hers
But took the plate and go
Holding now her heart in hand
Holed and flattened so
She wondered how and what to do
Wherever could she go
Lo and behold, a little man
Appeared on the horizon
From his pocket an ace of hearts
With which her heart he bought
Exchange made and prices paid
On his way he went
Leaving just the little girl
Paper heart in hand
then down flew a raven bird
Cawing all the while
“What a foolish trade you’ve made!”
As he pecked and pierced the paper tile
The raven was then chased away
By an old man with a cart
“That looks like you’d need it no more,
A relic to discard.”
The girl gave a tiny shake
Of her head and turned
And trudged back home, a day well spent
with something for to wait and yearn
And tomorrow again she’ll go
And stand by the path
A paper heart set on a platter
Was surely still an art
An experiment with narrative poetry
Kate Eddy Jun 27
On a cold night a woman did lie,
Alone in her blood she'd been left to die,
Remembering what she'd been told to do
She begged for life her intentions true.

Twas a man who heard her cry,
And not wishing to see her die
Revived the life that had been lost,
Even though he knew there'd be a cost.

Later that night a girl came into being,
Twas the goblin's bride many ghosts were seeing,
Back at the scene left behind,
Their souls a grim reaper didn't find.

Years later on a tragic night,
A young girl had discovered by birthday light,
Across from her-her mother she didn't see,
A ghost was what it appeared to be.

Leaving her cake the girl had cried,
Longing for her mother who had long since died,
Twas a man whom she did meet,
From the grim reaper she made her retreat.

A hard life was what the girl faced,
With an aunt where love lefted no trace,
Yet she tried to push through,
Knowing that was the best she could do.
Based off 1st few scenes of kdrama goblin
Farhan Jun 11
Success finds story,
Failure rests in cemetery.
every success story finds a matching narrative such as hardwork struggle but failures die peacefully
maureen Jun 4
tap
her fingers tap on the wooden table
her, with thunder across her face
emotions caught in dire
eyebrows etched together

impatience. every glum beat of her heart
translate into her fingertips.
i feel sorry. tightness wraps around
my neck. eyes search for answers.
there were none in plain sight.

tap. tap. tap.

then silence.

then she left without a word.
julian May 26
its been a month
funny how time flies
it seems only yesterday
you were there
laughing
smiling
holding my hand
singing along to showtunes in the car
we were happier than we had ever been
i shouldve known it would end
life has a hard-on for ******* me over
ruining all the good in my life
.
.
.
whyd it happen to you
of all people
.
.
.
we had a lot of plans
college together
an apartment in the city
maybe getting married
adopting a kid or two
spending another thirteen years as best friends
and then some
but those plans never work out
do they?
.
.
.
i dont know how ill move on
.
.
.
i listened to the cd
the karaoke we did at the arcade two years ago
livin on a prayer
we were fifteen
freshman in high school
even when youre scream-singing
you have an amazing voice
had
you had an amazing voice
i envy the angels who hear you singing now
save a song for me
.
.
.
i hope this finds you
wherever you are
i figured polaris would help
.
.
.
you are my home
always have been
always will be
.
.
.
farewell
.
.
.
ill see you soon
co'brien May 21
a city plain enough
for all the world to see
though round the edges rough
it always seems to be

as half the city sleeps
long past alluring Dusk
lonely screams creep
from eventual husks

sirens blare
while i grow pale
and cast a prayer
to no avail

a city plain enough
asleep at thirty to three
missing finer stuff
to keep me company

laying there, wide awake
the night not quiet yet
i shut my eyes for my own sake
and wait for silence to set

i hear ambulances convene
on the parking lot below
whisk away a pallid teen
without her soul in tow

my mind is forever *****
as a war-torn sieve—
i could never forget two-thirty
not for as long as i live
Empire May 10
I'm a slave to these lettered keys
Begging them for another hit
If I can find just the right words
The perfect phrase
Dark, mysterious, real
I can frighten myself
By its beauty
And derive pleasure
From its gentle caress
They take over my thoughts
I'm surrounded by stories
I'm not sure what's true
But I know if I keep writing
If I allow it to consume me
It will ease my passage
Through these days
Ickabobroe Apr 23
I finally see why you don’t like me

And while I agree, it’s my life, not yours
Don’t try and change who I am to fit your narrative
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