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Poetry

This category contains 7 posts

The Man in the Mirror

The Man in the mirror says I’m beautiful and kind thoughtfully created in God’s own mind The man in the mirror says I’m hardworking And strong. Capable of taking, anything on The man in the mirror says I’m bold driven, with a heart full of gold The man in the mirror says I’m smart sharpened … Continue reading

Menace on the hills

They knew he was in danger They saw it It was woven by their finger Written on their fabric. Their sentinels would vouch of it But none did. Instead they basked in a web of lies false pretense and legalised theft Sending agents disguised as merchants Secretly crafting his downfall “It has to be believable” … Continue reading

The Bad Squire – Charles Kingsley

The merry brown hares came leaping Over the crest of the hill, Where the clover and corn lay sleeping Under the moonlight still. Leaping late and early, Till under their bite and their tread The swedes and the wheat and the barley Lay cankered and trampled and dead. A poacher’s widow sat sighing On the … Continue reading

Its not cool or awesome, its — “– –”

I’ll tell you of a new word that recently and suddenly exploded onto the social lingo like a locust siege. A word common among teenagers and others, and onto which I’ve been slow to lock on. I’m not talking about fanute, although that’s also new, and cool. I’m talking about “Epic”. Everything cool is now … Continue reading

December confessions

1. Can watch commercials all day, especially funny ones. My favorite are the Strongbow ones (like these ones here) and the Meerkat ones (1, 2 and Meerkovo) Priceless. 2. Sometimes it looks like I have too many days when nobody understands, or makes the slightest effort to be helpful. You know those wretched days when … Continue reading

what causes me to fill page after pageā€¦ with my pain?

Found this Poem on family friend poems. Its written by someone named Michael (who goes by the name “country1” on the forum) what’s the purpose behind it all… what’s the point to the things I put down on paper? I write constantly it seems about all the things that I’d much rather forget… day after … Continue reading

The Harlot

They hate and me they loathe; Underfed, Jobless, broke. It’s not just because of them; But in it, they have a part; Did them no Sin; Admire their art; While they banquet; Drinking Rum smoking cigars, eating steaks; Class. My sister serves them; Washes the dishes, puts the children to bed at seven. Mother cleans … Continue reading