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Literature Text
Clanging, shattering, ear-splitting screams,
Howling, hollering, harrowing yowls,
Listen, listen to the words we have to say,
For we are the Unsung Writers.
Boisterous jubilant laughter ringing throughout hallways,
Heart-wrenching soulful sobs echoing throughout the bowels of the household,
Listen, listen to the words we have to say,
For we are the Unsung Writers.
Boiling rage pulsing throughout the body,
Thoughts sparking over contemplation over today's society,
Listen, listen to the words we have to say,
For we are the Unsung Writers.
Desperately begging for the attention of the world,
We have so much to offer if you would only stop for but a moment,
Listen, listen to the words we have to say,
For we are the Unsung Writers.
Take a moment and sit back to read the words of society,
You claim that there is no talent left but if were to seek further you would be proven wrong,
Listen, listen to the words we have to say,
For we are the Unsung Writers.
We are out there.
We continue to write even if it comes to no avail.
Listen, listen to the words we have to say.
For we are the Unsung Writers.
Howling, hollering, harrowing yowls,
Listen, listen to the words we have to say,
For we are the Unsung Writers.
Boisterous jubilant laughter ringing throughout hallways,
Heart-wrenching soulful sobs echoing throughout the bowels of the household,
Listen, listen to the words we have to say,
For we are the Unsung Writers.
Boiling rage pulsing throughout the body,
Thoughts sparking over contemplation over today's society,
Listen, listen to the words we have to say,
For we are the Unsung Writers.
Desperately begging for the attention of the world,
We have so much to offer if you would only stop for but a moment,
Listen, listen to the words we have to say,
For we are the Unsung Writers.
Take a moment and sit back to read the words of society,
You claim that there is no talent left but if were to seek further you would be proven wrong,
Listen, listen to the words we have to say,
For we are the Unsung Writers.
We are out there.
We continue to write even if it comes to no avail.
Listen, listen to the words we have to say.
For we are the Unsung Writers.
Literature
Confession~ A Poem
I really really like you,
But you don't feel the same,
I'm finally truly tired,
Of playing this little game
You seem to forget,
That I'm also your friend,
But it seems that too,
Has come to an end
It's time I confess,
Everything to you,
This time I wouldn't lie,
It'll be genuinely true
I hate your girlfriend,
She's really such a bore,
I really wonder what,
Your dating her for
You kept me up all those nights,
For nothing at all,
Instead you just let me drown,
Instead you let me fall
You put me in such pain,
And you put me in such sorrow,
It's time that I finally live,
A fresh, new tomorrow
It's time for me to let you go
Literature
Adulthood (a slam poem)
As I child, I grew up spending every day wishing that I was an adult.
And now, now I may not be an adult,
But every day I grow a step closer
And as much as I want to be free
As much as I want to be an adult
I would rather be a child
I would rather be a small little child
You know why?
Because as a child, I didn’t know what love was
And I didn’t know what love wasn’t
As a child
I thought that everything was perfect
As a child
I would cry when I dropped my ice cream
And forget about it a moment later.
As a child
When someone asked me how I was, I would say fine
And I would mean it.
And if I didn’t
Then I could, no I wo
Literature
Delusion becomes me
Delusion becomes me
it echoes with the listless duty
of confining me
within the horrid tyranny
of my own fiction.
There will be no coup
no revolution nor rebellion
no cries for reality
nor exuberance of freedom
only the echoes of duty.
The monotonous drown of forgeries,
atrocities, and apologies,
the dying screams
of impoverished souls
of fancy and fantasy,
the rapacious shouts
of fallacious joy over
the births of new yet
lovely children of fate and belief,
more loudly the gunfire
these shouts are meant to cloud
horribly loud in themselves
though they quiet some of the screams,
and finally the repetition
of my own whispers
,my own words,
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This here is for the challenge on the group that I admin, UnsungWritersGuild. <da:thumb id="502086805">
It feels a tad odd for I have never written for a contest or challenge, so I did my best! Thank you for reading.
It feels a tad odd for I have never written for a contest or challenge, so I did my best! Thank you for reading.
© 2014 - 2024 KayyVenom
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awesome^^