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Literature Text
Time binds me
Seconds enclose me
All I can do is wait
For this agony to end
I try to look at it all as a whole
To see the bigger picture
But its so hard
Agonizing
Second's grip becomes agonizing
Air slipping away
Lungs bursting in my chest
And-
-freedom
It's over, winds blowing through my hair
Not a care in the world
It's finally over
Freedom
Seconds enclose me
All I can do is wait
For this agony to end
I try to look at it all as a whole
To see the bigger picture
But its so hard
Agonizing
Second's grip becomes agonizing
Air slipping away
Lungs bursting in my chest
And-
-freedom
It's over, winds blowing through my hair
Not a care in the world
It's finally over
Freedom
Literature
Which Bathroom?
I am not a boy, not a girl
skinny pants with no bump
hips hidden by long shirts
yet I tape my chest everyday
so I can look like me
these eyes look past shapes
seeing souls and inner thoughts
hearing those judgements who can't stand
to stay in somebodies head
'Are you a boy or a girl?'
Can't i just be a person?
walking and talking just like you
moving to the beat of time
The thumping in my chest
ba-bump
ba-bump
ba-bump
singing of a free land
free to express how I want
as a person who likes people
without:
a)Female
b)Male
because I am
c)Both
d)Neither
depending on the time of day
but that cannot be
Literature
Writer
I am a scientist;
Pinning down ideas
like butterflies
preserving them in
their fragile beauty
as I take away their freedom,
their life.
I am a parasite;
sucking the soul out
of music and leaving it
a hollow shell
that plays like
the noisy silence in
my ears.
I am a thief;
taking what is not mine,
the world around me,
and pouring it into
a mould that
I claim is
my own.
I am a blasphemer;
playing God in a
sacred place, changing
the world to my
liking when the orchestra
is not under my
conduction.
I am a liar;
selling false havens
to lonely runaways,
giving them a glimpse
of a world more glamorous,
more fantas
Literature
hero.
They are laughing at him. He feels their piercing stares. He blinks, hard, and stares down at the pages of his book. The words swim before his eyes, useless.
He glances up as they dissipate, a chill crawling up his spine when he happens to meet the eyes of one of the boys, the fellow's lips pursed in a short, thin line. But he breaks the contact and walks off as well.
He leans back against the brick wall, exhaling slowly. That's it, then. It is time. He snaps the book shut and jams it in with the other loose papers and binders he won't be needing after today. Shouldering the backpack, he trudges away from the school, toward home.
***
He d
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I wrote this one while at work. It's all about me wanting to go home!!! XD hahaha
© 2011 - 2024 dwkeiko
Comments8
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This sort of reminds me how I sometimes feel about life, when it's tough (which is most of the time).
I'm actually glad to have clocks around, becuase they remind me that the torture of life won't last forever
I'm actually glad to have clocks around, becuase they remind me that the torture of life won't last forever