Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"endanger" poems
Secrets create, Enemies and friends. Can start new trends. Reveal new tech. Endanger peace. Turn blue to red. Secret whispers. Secrets welcome. Extra income. Conditional love. Regretful outcomes. Emotional sin. The hidden grin. Secret whispers. Secret sounds. Entrapped inside. Craves to be found. Results in lies. Eats till it dies, Till realized. Secret whispers, do not hide.
0
Nov 30, 2017
Nov 30, 2017 at 12:59 PM UTC
Secret Whispers
Dusk! With a creepy, tingling sensation you hear the fluttering of leathery wings! Bats! Glowing red eyes and glistening fangs, These unspeakable giant bugs drop into view.* Fibrous wings furred like a moth, Big ears are just a membranous extension of antennae. Flying in search of a flower’s pollen laden froth, Silent except for the hum and squeak of echolocation. Trap bats in attics, butterflies in nets. No rabies feared, no bedbug bites to itch. Clawed feet ****** and grab like praying mantis pincers; Bloated stomach slopes like a pudgy beetle. Jaws manipulate like an ant, excise like scissors; Soft hair rustles like a wooly caterpillar. They live in darkness, centipedes do too, Come out at night like cockroaches tend to. Skittering through the night like daddy long-legs, Noses snubbed like bumble bee faces. Wind turbines endanger bats, Like fans endanger lightning bugs. Only one percent of bats are vampiric, Like only a small percentage of spiders are poisonous. Dawn! With a creepy, tingling sensation you hear the fluttering of leathery wings! Bats! Bats are bugs, aren’t they?
0
May 4, 2010
May 4, 2010 at 5:04 PM UTC
Bats Aren’t Bugs!
Just because it's suggested doesn't make it right. In the hands of teachers, other staff. What other purpose could this directly serve. To defend our institutions. To further endanger those around. The knowledge instilled from book to teacher a different practice. Now holstered, hidden in the drawer of a desk. What goes through the mind of the victim that's been bullied. What training can be set in place to stop the next bulletin. Shooting across the screen. The kid in 10th grade that carries the weight of the world. Sitting all day staring out the window. Mother in hospice. A fragile thought swallowed by deafening silence. It no longer becomes a listening session of encouragement. The after school sessions of comfort sped up. Another bulletin of hysteria fired across the screen. Teacher student affair. 15 year old student found with 42 year old man. When in reality she was seeking help due to a troubled home. Afraid to sleep knowing the door would creep open. Leaving her terrified to close her eyes. The relationship between step daughter and father without boundary. Where's the specialty training for those who care. The proper resources that extend beyond that of a pamphlet. The dark skin kids that's made fun of because they look different. Stereotyped as aggressive. The dope boys, the baby mamas. The light skin girl that's made to feel inferior because she turns red with every hit. Her hair is longer than theirs so she wants to cut it. Aggressively forgetting all the beauty she possesses. The active shooter managing to make it pass the metal detectors. Rallying the attention he didn't get at home. The debate carries on across every wall except the right ones
0
Jul 13, 2018
Jul 13, 2018 at 11:33 AM UTC
District Administrator
Just because it's suggested doesn't make it right. In the hands of teachers, other staff. What other purpose could this directly serve. To defend our institutions. To further endanger those around. The knowledge instilled from book to teacher a different practice. Now holstered, hidden in the drawer of a desk. What goes through the mind of the victim that's been bullied. What training can be set in place to stop the next bulletin. Shooting across the screen. The kid in 10th grade that carries the weight of the world. Sitting all day staring out the window. Mother in hospice. A fragile thought swallowed by deafening silence. It no longer becomes a listening session of encouragement. The after school sessions of comfort sped up. Another bulletin of hysteria fired across the screen. Teacher student affair. 15 year old student found with 42 year old man. When in reality she was seeking help due to a troubled home. Afraid to sleep knowing the door would creep open. Leaving her terrified to close her eyes. The relationship between step daughter and father without boundary. Where's the specialty training for those who care. The proper resources that extend beyond that of a pamphlet. The dark skin kids that's made fun of because they look different. Stereotyped as aggressive. The dope boys, the baby mamas. The light skin girl that's made to feel inferior because she turns red with every hit. Her hair is longer than theirs so she wants to cut it. Aggressively forgetting all the beauty she possesses. The active shooter managing to make it pass the metal detectors. Rallying the attention he didn't get at home. The debate carries on across every wall except the right ones
Continue reading...
33
Beacon of prayer, flicker and be the light of sky. Call me to your worship and break me into two. Danger and endanger me, extinct. Match or game? And game? Start at the end and end in a pool of molten silver, molten treasure. Get on your knees, look to the sky and call out to the deities, for I am burning now. I trusted you, ash and all. Now I see; all that flickers ends in dust, anyway. that al
0
Jul 27, 2013
Jul 27, 2013 at 12:52 PM UTC
Candle
If I were not a person who dealt in words the same way others dealt in currency (or maths or measures or facts or any number of infinitely more practical things) If I were not a person who breathed in the flow of letters against pages and thoughts against spaces I would never love an artist because no matter the medium of the life cra wl in g beneath their skin No matter if they hear notes in the flip of her hair (or paint galaxies of the breath against her cheeks or create worlds hinged on his fallen eyelash or build monuments to his unguarded laughter or sway to whatever melody her eyes serenade beyond flickering boredom) no matter the medium they substitute for the oxygen they inhale Their hearts do not exist —cannot— outside of the muse they substitute to pump their passions through their veins And if I were not a person who dwelt between the strokes of the letters and devoured the length of meters I would never love an artist because their lives are forever forfeit to their muse sold, clapped in heavy irons to a desert oasis you cannot reach because you cannot be his muse, if he has notched you onto his belt For an artist would never endanger his muse, no matter if he loved her (or worshipped her or tortured her or reveled in her or whatever multiple definition love has contracted) If I were not a person who knew the woes of seeing more than what the world might first offer But I am. And I understand. And I would never love an artist For I belong to my muse and so does he and She demands that no competition come from the love She allows me outside Her chamber doors and an artist's brilliance is competition indeed And I can only ever love an artist who might forgive And who might understand If I told her she is my muse no longer
0
May 24, 2017
May 24, 2017 at 5:46 AM UTC
Never Love An Artist
If I were not a person who dealt in words the same way others dealt in currency (or maths or measures or facts or any number of infinitely more practical things) If I were not a person who breathed in the flow of letters against pages and thoughts against spaces I would never love an artist because no matter the medium of the life cra wl in g beneath their skin No matter if they hear notes in the flip of her hair (or paint galaxies of the breath against her cheeks or create worlds hinged on his fallen eyelash or build monuments to his unguarded laughter or sway to whatever melody her eyes serenade beyond flickering boredom) no matter the medium they substitute for the oxygen they inhale Their hearts do not exist —cannot— outside of the muse they substitute to pump their passions through their veins And if I were not a person who dwelt between the strokes of the letters and devoured the length of meters I would never love an artist because their lives are forever forfeit to their muse sold, clapped in heavy irons to a desert oasis you cannot reach because you cannot be his muse, if he has notched you onto his belt For an artist would never endanger his muse, no matter if he loved her (or worshipped her or tortured her or reveled in her or whatever multiple definition love has contracted) If I were not a person who knew the woes of seeing more than what the world might first offer But I am. And I understand. And I would never love an artist For I belong to my muse and so does he and She demands that no competition come from the love She allows me outside Her chamber doors and an artist's brilliance is competition indeed And I can only ever love an artist who might forgive And who might understand If I told her she is my muse no longer
Continue reading...
55
1658 Endanger it, and the Demand Of tickets for a sigh Amazes the Humility Of Credibility— Recover it to Nature And that dejected Fleet Find Consternation’s Carnival Divested of its Meat.
0
2.1k
Endanger it, and the Demand
On the News today, it has been reported, about tornadoes in several States. Why would you get out the car, to take a picture of the storm that's right on you, what a "Dumb Mistake"? Now concerning Donald Sterling, I hate to say it, but he is a Billionaire fool. Does he realize he could endanger his life, with the comments he has used? When the captain jumped off the ship, leaving the children behind, do you feel your life is better, not paying the children any mind? The Prime Minister of Malaysia, did not care about the families who were left behind. He was so eager to get everything over with, by texting them, causing them, to almost lose their mind. A life is a precious thing, before the eyes of the Lord. It is important that a life is saved, so get on one accord. By, Sandra Juanita Nailing By, Sandra Juanita Nailing
0
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 11:56 PM UTC
Ignoring Life
Two lovers Standing on the side Of a ship, peering down To the sea below. I was the southern belle With one hand on my coin purse And the other on my cap, holding It in place despite the breeze Sweeping off the sea. You were the southern gentleman One hand in your pocket, toying with Your antique watch that always seemed to Be a minute late, and the other on the Railing, keeping you steady as you Squint ahead in an attempt to Separate the seams of Sky and sea. A wave of mass proportion Heaves the ship to one side, Causing me to slip from the Balcony and into the railing. You immediately tear your eyes From the sky and into mine as you Reach for me, grabbing my hands And attempting to pull me to safety. But the ship leans, And I slide over the side, Your hands the only thing Anchoring me to anything. You are under the impression That you can pull me in, but the Sea has something else in mind. It rocks the ship, throwing me Against the side and then Tossing me back out again. Your eyes are desperate, Your grip is sturdy, But your body is A victim of Gravity. I can feel you Leaning further Over the side, your Eyes still searching mine. I know that If I continue to Hold the hand that Has always saved me, It will only endanger you. So I pull My fingers From your grasp And watch your eyes As I fall to my death, but I know that I have saved you.
0
Jun 22, 2013
Jun 22, 2013 at 6:44 PM UTC
The Ship and The Sea
To the once blooming violet, is it true? Will she succumb her petals to the burden of time? Will I be witness to the ripples of this crime? Is the storm to drown her in skies darkened blue? Why is the savior the one to endanger? Why is the heartsease the one heartbreaker? Why is the kind spirit the true soul shaker? Why is my best friend to become a stranger? How can she lose against the clutches of temptation? When was the divine cursed with humanity? How could the listener speak with inanity? When was our friendship twisted into damnation? Will an invasive **** be victorious in his heist? Is the **** to convince her of his illusive might? Is he ******* her salve, to my abysmal fright? Will I rot of envy from the disgraceful tryst? Why is life’s story a destiny written in stone? Why can’t I change the demise plagued within? Why should her scent become my eternal toxin? Why shall it degrade me from my flesh ‘til my bone? How was I yearning for the bliss of her design? When was I seeded with this addiction? How was it dreamt into endless affliction? When did Violet and Lost Girl begin to intertwine? Epilogue: And did the lost girl tiptoed through the darkened fields? Was her in search of the warmth of the sun’s yield? Did she reach the water? Was it her escape? Was a giant lily in the wait? Was it a doomed attempt? No heat, no win? Were her burdens too heavy? Did she sink in? And forever bound, was this betrayal to restrain her way? Or was it a promise of the past to save her day?
0
Jan 14, 2021
Jan 14, 2021 at 8:46 AM UTC
Lost Girl
To the once blooming violet, is it true? Will she succumb her petals to the burden of time? Will I be witness to the ripples of this crime? Is the storm to drown her in skies darkened blue? Why is the savior the one to endanger? Why is the heartsease the one heartbreaker? Why is the kind spirit the true soul shaker? Why is my best friend to become a stranger? How can she lose against the clutches of temptation? When was the divine cursed with humanity? How could the listener speak with inanity? When was our friendship twisted into damnation? Will an invasive **** be victorious in his heist? Is the **** to convince her of his illusive might? Is he ******* her salve, to my abysmal fright? Will I rot of envy from the disgraceful tryst? Why is life’s story a destiny written in stone? Why can’t I change the demise plagued within? Why should her scent become my eternal toxin? Why shall it degrade me from my flesh ‘til my bone? How was I yearning for the bliss of her design? When was I seeded with this addiction? How was it dreamt into endless affliction? When did Violet and Lost Girl begin to intertwine? Epilogue: And did the lost girl tiptoed through the darkened fields? Was her in search of the warmth of the sun’s yield? Did she reach the water? Was it her escape? Was a giant lily in the wait? Was it a doomed attempt? No heat, no win? Were her burdens too heavy? Did she sink in? And forever bound, was this betrayal to restrain her way? Or was it a promise of the past to save her day?
Continue reading...
33
I have some pretty unpopular opinions. Acts of stringing string cheese have always seemed so wrong! Maybe people say I'm strange because I like some songs. And that's just the beginning... Being human, so many think that microwaves pose danger. I can't imagine why you'd think that radiation's any stranger. Getting some exposure is sure to not endanger! Word for wet: "moist?" I don't exactly hate it. Everyone seems to, though, so I don't bother to debate it. I don't think that sidewalks are dangerous if they're cracked. Right! That's not an opinion, it's a cold hard fact. Definitely, it's a hazard to leave vaccines ignored. Oops, some disagree! Time to give Darwin Awards.
0
Feb 2, 2018
Feb 2, 2018 at 9:04 AM UTC
Unpopular Opinions
You don’t need to self destruct to get attention You don’t need to Hurt yourself Cut yourself Starve yourself Endanger yourself Sabotage yourself To get attention You deserve attention You’re worth noticing You’re worth caring for You are worth them sticking around
0
Jul 7, 2020
Jul 7, 2020 at 2:15 AM UTC
+ Self Talk
Pain is a warning that points to danger --       that the wrong choice was made                in baring hand to flame;       or the wrong thing was desired                in the objectification of another;       that the wrong expectations were held                in contempt of circumstance; The truly foolish        romanticize the warning                and ignore the danger                           to which it points; and the lost       mistake the warning                for a guidepost beckoning                           toward safe-houses; This obsession the pearl of Pain in ignorance,       for the wrong direction taken                at the fork of Pain and Sorrow;       the wrong outcome desired                in pressing on unbalanced; and,       the wrong ideal held as Truth                in seeking fulfillment; the burden of youth yare to claim its potential, ready to risk and fail.       Wisdom says, "Push on through"...       and also, "Know when to quit." For men yet forget the meaning of Pain. Pain is a warning against ignorance, inviting the seeker to set aside illusions, coaxing the candid to shed misplaced pride; The truly foolish        romanticize ignorance                and endanger the soul                           to which it points; and the lost       mistake ignorance                for reason itself,                           and become enthralled; This obsession the pearl of Pain in ignorance,       for the wrong direction taken                at the fork of Pain and Sorrow;       the wrong outcome desired                in pressing on unbalanced; and,       the wrong ideal held as Truth                in seeking fulfillment.
0
Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 12:37 PM UTC
The Wrong Choice
Pain is a warning that points to danger --       that the wrong choice was made                in baring hand to flame;       or the wrong thing was desired                in the objectification of another;       that the wrong expectations were held                in contempt of circumstance; The truly foolish        romanticize the warning                and ignore the danger                           to which it points; and the lost       mistake the warning                for a guidepost beckoning                           toward safe-houses; This obsession the pearl of Pain in ignorance,       for the wrong direction taken                at the fork of Pain and Sorrow;       the wrong outcome desired                in pressing on unbalanced; and,       the wrong ideal held as Truth                in seeking fulfillment; the burden of youth yare to claim its potential, ready to risk and fail.       Wisdom says, "Push on through"...       and also, "Know when to quit." For men yet forget the meaning of Pain. Pain is a warning against ignorance, inviting the seeker to set aside illusions, coaxing the candid to shed misplaced pride; The truly foolish        romanticize ignorance                and endanger the soul                           to which it points; and the lost       mistake ignorance                for reason itself,                           and become enthralled; This obsession the pearl of Pain in ignorance,       for the wrong direction taken                at the fork of Pain and Sorrow;       the wrong outcome desired                in pressing on unbalanced; and,       the wrong ideal held as Truth                in seeking fulfillment.
Continue reading...
54
*here they go again , these experts telling us things to sadden the heart: game may not be that safe to eat running river water is never a treat for it carries upstream decadence here they go again, these stuffed-shirt experts: water is two to one hyydrogen and oxygen boiled, the oxygen steams away into the air and your cappuccino has a hydrogen flavour we endanger our lives when it we drink and savour here they go again, the learned heralds of demise they tell us that nothing we can ever devise can avert the armageddon that's surely coming the entropy or second law of thermodynamics transforms physicists into latterday prophets here they go again on prime media, the erudite experts talking about free radicals, anti-oxidants, titanium utensils and the havoc that excess proteins, fats and carbohydrates can cause it’s time to go puritan and vegetarian in this new poisonous present where fun is frowned upon and barbecues are a deadly pastime in this age of dietary enlightenment and forced moderation we must eventually go raw in our cuisine and be natural about it or perhaps be as creative as possible before the nutritionists come in to tell us how not to cook our food and how not to eat it living was great fun before this age of detoxification and cancer!*
0
Jan 13, 2016
Jan 13, 2016 at 10:26 AM UTC
taking the fun out of living
When humankind is out of control, The world suffers a giant loss. Threats of mass extinctions aren't Difficult to come across. More than half of the world's primates Are on the verge of extinction due To agriculture, logging, mining, And hunting. Where's the hullabaloo? Lemurs, chimps, orangutans, And lowland gorillas are under threat. When we endanger others, we also Endanger ourselves, don't forget. Habitat loss, climate change, Wildlife trade…. Scientists fear That if these are not halted, many Primates will sadly disappear. We're talking about numerous species-- A couple hundred, not just dozens. What is wrong with **** sapiens? How could we do that to our cousins? -by Bob B (2-6-17)
0
Feb 6, 2017
Feb 6, 2017 at 9:47 AM UTC
Primate Peril
How can you bring yourself to text, while driving in your car? Do you value the people who are near, and those traveling from afar? How can you text, and endanger many lives? You could **** not only children, but people's husbands and wives. How can you text with an attitude that you don't care? You cause people to prepare for funerals, pulling out their hair. How can you text, putting everyone in harms way? A law in every state should be passed against it, and it should start today. By, Sandra Juanita Nailing
0
Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 7:42 PM UTC
Texting
Pleading blue eyes, Begging me to stay, Begging blue eyes, Plead me to please not turn away, Pleading blue eyes, That are filled with deceit and lies, Begging blue eyes, Still cheated no matter how this women cries, Sorry blue eyes, Despite other ties, Implore on me them to forgive, Only for all deceit again relive, So pleading blue eyes, Begging Blue eyes, Now only so mournful of its ways, By lust for others than his wife once sways, Sorry blue eyes, Will never change, Sorry blue eyes, Once I knew now strange, Pleading blue eyes of a man I thought I knew, Begging blue eyes of a cheater I had no clue, Sorry blue eyes, Beg me to reconsider with tears it cries, I shut my green eyes, I open tear stained eyes, Tired, pained and sad, To stay with one so unfaithful I would be mad, Tired eyes look down on the familiar stranger, With his familiar pleading blue eyes, Tears I strain could me endanger, So pleading blue eyes green eyes turn away from as we say our goodbyes,
0
Dec 7, 2012
Dec 7, 2012 at 6:11 AM UTC
Pleading Blue Eyes
she asks for me to stay "and stay i will" even when she refuses me the same peace of mind but blame falls not on her when she threatens to leave me bare on the back of an untamed bull it was my fault to mount and endanger our love so now i'll get back off unless she mounts with me and ride our lives out past the sunset on a force that cant be controlled our emotions our vulnerable, untamed love
0
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 10:32 AM UTC
Bull
I can't remember the last time Where I looked you in the eyes And simply said what's on my mind. It seems every time I'd lie; Taking another chip from your heart And placing it in my shark shaped Piggy bank. You called me out and I ran away with my words Down another trodden path Of familiar verbal catastrophe When all you wanted was me. Well if that's all you wanted I guess I should start from the top. I'm sorry but I think I'm leading you on. I'm apologize for coming on way too strong in the beginning. But I feel afraid all alone with no comfort from close friends, just media drones. I keep you around for the *** however convenient, yet I can't stand the shape of your forehead, nose, or neck. I want to take away your breath, if not for the moment so you don't speak, then for the mornings when all I want you to do is leave my bed. I'm so insecure. My character faults tumble down the rabbit hole like a bead of sweat wet from my hairline on my head to my hairline in the crevice of my rear end. I still pick my nose and sometimes eat it fearing that if I don't that I'll feel cheated. I convince myself there are starving kids in Africa; kids who would do anything for a meal that they would endanger there body in the form of human trafficking. I'm selfishly selfish. I come out with personal gains for every favor in my friends' names. My *** ***** hangs but not as low as the average, a trait I think most females would laugh at. I have trouble saying "I love you" to my mother because deep down I feel troubled that she would just ridicule me for having feelings for another like she did when I was twelve. I consistently lie through my perfect teeth that hide the grime and cavities that I do keep. I feel like I should somehow be embarrassed and express all of thoughts to a psychoanalyst. But they would make me tell the truth which seems to be the most difficult thing I could do. When all I want to do is lie to you. And keep you on a fish line Because I like the way our bodies intertwine physically. Just please stop asking me what on my mind Because honestly, you really don't want to know.
0
Aug 30, 2013
Aug 30, 2013 at 9:42 PM UTC
Honestly, Honesty is Everything...
I can't remember the last time Where I looked you in the eyes And simply said what's on my mind. It seems every time I'd lie; Taking another chip from your heart And placing it in my shark shaped Piggy bank. You called me out and I ran away with my words Down another trodden path Of familiar verbal catastrophe When all you wanted was me. Well if that's all you wanted I guess I should start from the top. I'm sorry but I think I'm leading you on. I'm apologize for coming on way too strong in the beginning. But I feel afraid all alone with no comfort from close friends, just media drones. I keep you around for the *** however convenient, yet I can't stand the shape of your forehead, nose, or neck. I want to take away your breath, if not for the moment so you don't speak, then for the mornings when all I want you to do is leave my bed. I'm so insecure. My character faults tumble down the rabbit hole like a bead of sweat wet from my hairline on my head to my hairline in the crevice of my rear end. I still pick my nose and sometimes eat it fearing that if I don't that I'll feel cheated. I convince myself there are starving kids in Africa; kids who would do anything for a meal that they would endanger there body in the form of human trafficking. I'm selfishly selfish. I come out with personal gains for every favor in my friends' names. My *** ***** hangs but not as low as the average, a trait I think most females would laugh at. I have trouble saying "I love you" to my mother because deep down I feel troubled that she would just ridicule me for having feelings for another like she did when I was twelve. I consistently lie through my perfect teeth that hide the grime and cavities that I do keep. I feel like I should somehow be embarrassed and express all of thoughts to a psychoanalyst. But they would make me tell the truth which seems to be the most difficult thing I could do. When all I want to do is lie to you. And keep you on a fish line Because I like the way our bodies intertwine physically. Just please stop asking me what on my mind Because honestly, you really don't want to know.
Continue reading...
19
I'm nothing more than a fly on Life's expansive wall The news spread to swat me swiftly through the air And as I'm gliding aimlessly with my effortless fall I wonder how it used to feel, back when I use to care My withered wings, Oh the places They have soared Lascivious flings, Oh the territories I have explored Jewels and things, all just pointless awards adored Like retired Kings, I've grown tired, old, and bored Yet my soul clings, for anything I may have ignored and then it sings, a melody that leaves you floored Recklessly I must abandon thee, this identity bestowed upon me Although I have a penchant for living knowing it will end is so unforgiving Part of a species that could never be stranger That Recklessly we shall eventually endanger So please let these words do their job and nourish Your mind, body and soul are now free to flourish
0
Jan 21, 2014
Jan 21, 2014 at 2:53 AM UTC
Reck...Less
When she gets ill Everything disordered; Light and warmth amend, Day and night differ, Breeze revolutionize, Everything dismayed! When she gets ill Everyone distressed; Rivers and streams waste away, Birds are becoming shove, Flowers desiccated, Crops shrunken, Everything dirtied! When she gets ill Murkiness delimited us, Our aspiration and potency endanger; Let’s pray for her resurgence!
0
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 4:11 AM UTC
Pray for her
If you think you're getting another chance I suggest you turn around, and leave. You spew ******** about caring about me, about wanting to listen, wanting to be there But when I needed someone these past few months you were no where to be found, and I was utterly alone. Sometimes I wish I could give you a second chance, but I'm known for being stubborn, so dreadfully stubborn And of course I've managed to hold onto the smallest hint of self-respect so tell me why -- Why would I knowingly endanger myself again by letting you back into my life? Can you answer that? No? I didn't think so.
0
Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 9:23 PM UTC
Chances
Long journey ahead on dirt road, Dust fills the paths can't see past it, the suns heating our heads, two hot heads on path of destruction. She's so weak and tired, I give her the last sip of my water, though she's got a bottle in her bag I don't know about, thought I knew her so well. We hear voices telling us which paths to take we turn but there's no one there to help, as end of the dirt road nears the dust gets stronger by the step, we can't see ahead we are walking visionless, I endanger myself to keep this dying flame alive, I try and try but comes the end of the road where we departed, becoming strangers and faded Memories to existence that once was.
0
Nov 10, 2013
Nov 10, 2013 at 10:31 PM UTC
Known Strangers
I had the chance to stay alive we ran but, I fell twice I didn't see the one lurking at the end of my drive It was an old one an surprised me completely my hand went up to stop the teeth but it sunk down on my wrist ever so quickly I got away but now I greatly fear that the virus will spread maybe by a freak chance I will be free and clear should I tell the others I start to wonder I know if it was me I would shoot them in the head But I am so embarrassed by my total blunder If I lay and wait I could endanger the others It will creep up on me and spread My people are close we are like brothers My life would have been saved with an amputation My indecision has my life hanging from a thread Now I live in total frustration. I need to get a gun to end it all or some way to successfully behead right now I am up against a wall
0
Apr 18, 2013
Apr 18, 2013 at 11:59 PM UTC
Bitten
Alone the mirror, Cracked and ugly Stares blankly at nothing Waiting for a face to draw upon For images protruding From behind my glassy eyes Reddened without sleep Speak softly to the morning me And tell of unwanted future’s plan I recklessly endanger hope For self-satisfying ambitionless wishes Defying optometry, optimistically, I see beyond the pleasant and mundane
0
Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 3:37 AM UTC
The Reflective Parts
Panic errupts As my composure disappears. False accusations; the end draws near. Such a beautiful soul; You're simply pure. A smile on your face, So dangerous, It's scary. Distance so deadly Meaning obstained Treachous preditors Prance on my terrain. Manipulative beings endanger your existance As I sit and pray For your beautiful and safe return. Menacing followers Pry as we fight Soul filled with sorrow, It all happened that night. Cries of despair Rip from my soul. All emotions gone a wry, your fate's been decided. One slippery mistake And you are easily gone. Stay close to me baby, Everything as feared, Went wrong.
0
Feb 16, 2010
Feb 16, 2010 at 8:00 PM UTC
Went Wrong