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Literature Text
Confined their eyes
To the darkest place
A world where
The justice has died.
Your rights
Has been declined
And the screams
Are just wind.
Fight
Change the history
They won’t have
Eternal victory.
Blind hearts
They want
To lead us
Without ask.
We will burn
Their flags
Around the world
And ours
Will live.
Smother the law
With your protest
Create a new age.
Demand
The stolen freedom
Replaced with fear.
You can pull
Down the fate
Soon the sun
Will ascend.
(27/7/14)
To the darkest place
A world where
The justice has died.
Your rights
Has been declined
And the screams
Are just wind.
Fight
Change the history
They won’t have
Eternal victory.
Blind hearts
They want
To lead us
Without ask.
We will burn
Their flags
Around the world
And ours
Will live.
Smother the law
With your protest
Create a new age.
Demand
The stolen freedom
Replaced with fear.
You can pull
Down the fate
Soon the sun
Will ascend.
(27/7/14)
Literature
A broken heart
I promised myself I'll never fall in love
Whenever I fall in love I feel renewed and happy
But like a drug
Once everything finishes
I'm crying, depressed and the wreckage of my heart
I always end up feeling worse
I want to find someone that is special
But I'm afraid to suffer again
I'm afraid of losing another person
Do not want to suffer
Do not make me suffer, do not lie to me
Do not hurt me, no more
I will not hold on to people who only sink me
I'll be free and live with have left
A cold and lonely spirit.
Literature
To you who write until you bleed and cry and die
i. You aren't the ruins of Greece.
You don't combust into fascination when the black
rose you planted years ago finally bloom and poison
your veins and stop your heart beat in black splotches
and dirty grenade. The Earth won't mould trees or
ocean or clouds into your image when rust seeps into
your wrist, turning you into a sculpture of grey hands
and silver blood. You won't smile knowing a spider is
creeping up your throat, spider webbing your tongue and robbing your voice away.
ii. You can't tame a wild boar with tombstone nails.
You don't have to get why your wounds rot like
the speed of a full-on hail storm and why others
Literature
Thinking of Me and You
It seemed almost like
You were right there again,
Just waiting for me
With your hands outstretched.
But it was just a dream,
And even though I knew it,
I still cried when I woke up,
Thinking of me and you.
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Comments7
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This is my personal favorite of the three you had sent me to critique. I think that it conveys the message really well and clearly as well as giving the emotion outright infront. I do not have too much to say about this because I'm not really a poet by nature but this one strikes me as the best.