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Suggested by: MagicalJoey
Featured by: TwilightPoetess
How We ForgetThe world is so packed
to the brim –
I do not know
How such a full sea
Has not yet been displaced
By the weight of the teeming wild beneath it:
Surely only the mountains
Are safe from the precarious below.
We live on boats
but do not sail.
And how we miss the land we
can’t return to:
I await the day the last canyons are filled
And we forget.
This is a powerful, heart-wrenching message.
Featured by: chromeantennae
Photoshopped LifeYou can't saturate the wheel
In the colors of real life;
You can't always up the contrast
In your mother's loving eyes.
You can't play with the exposure
Of a blinding summer day;
You can't include the clover
Or the smell of drying hay.
You can't take the sound of falling snow
And post for all to see,
Or capture every icy rainbow
Shining from the trees.
You can't enhance the laughter
Of the two friends by your side;
You cannot crop the flying hairs
So that they lay just right.
So let the hues be slightly dull
Who cares if skin is clear?
Just take the days, appreciate
The lovely and sincere.
This is a simple, succinct little piece, with a smooth rhyme and good message.
Featured by: Naktarra
Suggested by: Steve-C2
Where do you live, Arry? The sound of sandpaper followed Arry everywhere that he went. Dragging his feet behind him as he walked home, he recognized that godforsaken sound again.
He heard it all day at work, he heard it in his tired, dragging feet, he heard it in the sound of tires across pavement and chipmunks running across grass. It was forever present, forever torturing him.
Arry was only 10 years old, yet he was working an illegal and dangerous job. “Street rats” like himself didn’t usually get all that much protection from the government, and they didn’t ask for it. If you wanted to live, you worked. If you wanted to live, you dealt with the conditions of your job.
In all his 3,653 days of Arry’s life, there were none so important as this.
Arry just didn’t know it yet.
To him, everything looked the same. The cramped house
Suggester says: The story started with a simple prompt. It takes a talented writer to take some simple words, and create a sweet, heartwarming story that is riveting from beginning to end.
Featured by doodlerTM
Air HeadI looked out the passenger-side window at the cloudless blue sky, anxiously beating my palms against the dashboard. The air was still and warm, though not hot, and a queasy ball of squirming anticipation roiled in my gut.
"Just let me out."
Mom sighed, her fingers tapping restlessly against the steering wheel. "Be patient, all right? We're already past the post office, the mall's only two blocks away."
"I'm gonna be late for work!"
"Not for another half hour."
I stretched my neck as high as I could while sitting, trying to see an end to the Friday afternoon traffic jam. Not a car was moving as far as I could see.
"At least let me get out and look around," I whined.
Moms huffed and started to reply, but I was already out of my seatbelt and squeezing through the window into the September sky.
I managed to float about thirty feet straight up before Moms called my cell.
"You get down here right now!"
"Mom! God! Why do you make me sit in traffic with you?"
"If I have to drive you to w
A delightful fantasy about flying.
Featured by: Malintra-Shadowmoon
Die Linde vor dem ToreLehn Dich an mich,
wenn Du müde bist
und Deine Reise noch so weit.
Lehn Dich an mich,
ich werde rauschen
und wieder Lieder flüstern mit dem Wind.
Ich werde stark sein
und Dich beschützen
vor allem Sturm und Unbill dieser Welt.
Ich werde stark sein
lehn Dich an mich, vertrau, ich geb Dir heute Halt.
Und wenn die Nacht kommt,
will ich für Dich wachen,
damit Du Deine Träume weiterlebst.
Und dann am Morgen geb
ich Dir für Deine Reise
ein buntes Blatt mit, dass Du mein gedenkst.
Beautiful free verse poem, inspired by FedersStrich poem "Dryade" and an old German folk song "Der Lindenbaum - Am Brunnen vor dem Tore"
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~ The DailyLitRecognition Team ~
Prepared by: doodlerTM
Speed Shock Chapter: 6
Rouge and I were walking through the forest, and I seriously couldn't handle her anymore. She was annoying me so much I actually considered killing her. Sadly, I couldn't. She's here to help, not to die. I still hate her right now.
Rouge: Ugh! I'm thirsty! Where's my golden glass of wine?
Shadow: *rolls eyes* For the last time, we didn't bring wine! You and I both know how you act once you drink wine. And your golden glass is back at the cave. It was WAY to heavy to bring.
Rough: WHAT?! Then I will die from thirst, because I'm not drinking out of the water bottle you packed from me. The color black is not my favorite color for a water bottle. *grins* Though, I wouldn't mind if I drank from YOUR water bottle.
Shadow: Don't even try to persuade me. The answer is no forever.
Rough: *whispers to self* Darn!
Shadow: We're almost at the location where the strange creature was. I wonder why it would be in the park.
Rough: I don't know either. I really don't care though. I just like spending time with my good 'ol pal, Shadowie.
Shadow: If you call me "Shadowie" one more time, you will never make it out of this forest alive.
Rouge: At least I would die in YOUR arms. How romantic would that be?
Rouge: My legs are tierd! I can't walk anymore! If we want to keep going, you have to carry me. *whisper to self* It would be so romantic!
Shadow: *stops walking, looks at Rouge, rolls eyes* I won't carry you unless you faint or your legs and WINGS are broken. You always talk about how your wings are a gift, so use them.
Rouge: Grr. Fine! *Flies close to Shadow*
Shadow: *continues waking, rolls eyes* You don't care about Blaze, do you?
Rouge: I hate to be rude, but NOPE.
Shadow: So... You only came because I was going?
Shadow: Your very desperate for me, are you?
Rouge: Sorry! I was born to be naturally romantic.
Shadow: *smiles a tiny bit* Well, that's what makes you unique. And also why I haven't killed you yet.