ForgetNothing more than a faint whisperForget1 year ago in Literature Features More Like This
A forgotten memory at best
Run along now and forget her
The young girl you saw in the forest
Forget about her red eyes
Her long silvery white hair
Neglect to recall her small size
And her skin, pale and fair
You don’t even know her name
For she has none to be remembered
Evanescence is her game
You never saw her after December
She always comes when the snow falls
Dancing in the trees, her form faded and small
A Beautiful Sunset of RedA Beautiful Sunset of Red1 year ago in Literature Features More Like This
Lying in my hospital bed,
I listened to the wall clock tick overhead,
I tried to move, but knew I couldn’t
My body no longer moved, it just wouldn’t
The shadows on the wall whispered of the evening,
Of a beautiful sunset, red and beaming
A deep sorrow began to fill my chest,
And a single tear slipped and fell on my breast,
For once upon a time, when I wasn’t paralyzed,
And my parents were still alive,
We’d watch that glorious sunset of red, and talk about our lives
We’d laugh and cry and embrace each other tight,
Staying out long after the sun had gone down, gazing into the night.
Those had been the good times, those had been the days
But a speeding car and a drunk driver took it all away
But in the end, I guess I really can’t complain,
God made life a gamble,
And I’m still in the gam
Anne (Limerick-style poem)AnneAnne (Limerick-style poem)1 year ago in Literature Features More Like This
There once was a crazy young man
Who fell in love with a girl named Anne
Anne was cold and never talked
And from her place she never walked
Birds often rested in her gray hair
For Anne was a statue in Central Square
The Butterflies- A short storyThe ButterfliesThe Butterflies- A short story1 year ago in Literature Features More Like This
The young albino sighed with irritation. Her teacher thought she was lying about her report. The red butterfly told her so. Her teacher thought that she had plagiarized someone else’s work. It was too good, the teacher was thinking. It’s too emotional for someone her age to write. It angered Emily. Her story had been about her late younger sister, Lily. In a way, it had been one of Emily’s attempts to tell the world of her pain; to get the world to understand. And her teacher dared to challenge her story as plagiarized. She would show her.
“Calm down, Emily,” whispered the blue butterfly. “She doesn’t understand…how could she? She isn’t like you. No one is.” She heard the other students in her classroom whispering about her, making fun of her. They thought she was no good, a weirdo; one that knew too much. But who could
Autism's FriendIn Boston Massachusetts, an orphanage held many of the children who lost their parents when they were very young. On specific child who lived there was very different than the others. She had Apsergers, a specific type of Autism, and the people who took care of her didn't know much about her condition. They always thought she was stubborn and aggressive, but her disorder was just making her stressed out. She would have many stims that made her look like she had spasms, but were expected with her disorder. She would always cry outside by a tree with her stuffed owl she would never get rid of. Her condition made her obsessed with owls, and the people thought she was sick and planned to send her to an institution if she didn't 'improve'. One cloudy, brisk day, she sat by the tree and clutched her owl.Autism's Friend2 years ago in Literature Features More Like This
'I wish I had a friend who likes owls and understands me…' she thought.
A rustle in the bushes startled her. When she turned around, nothing was there. She had an Autistic fear of monsters a
The Ballad of EzekielThe Ballad of EzekielThe Ballad of Ezekiel1 year ago in Literature Features More Like This
Before meeting you, I was all alone
With a hole where my heart should have been
I knew nothing of love or kindness
A monster, was I, who took lives without end
I lived alone in the branches of a black oak tree
Expertly luring my victims to their graves
I always wore a fake crooked smile
To hide how much I needed to be saved
I’d make them smile like me just before they died
Make them recall memories of happy days
When it was over, I’d hold them close
I cared about them all, in my own special way
When I first saw you, I thought of you as prey
To me, you were nothing, simply another victim
I constantly watched you, observed your daily life.
Never did I imagine, it’d be you who’d disrupt the system.
When It RainsWhen It RainsWhen It Rains1 year ago in Literature Features More Like This
No one seems to like the rain anymore,
Cause when it falls, everyone runs indoors.
Some people will take shelter under a tree,
Others shield themselves with umbrellas varying in size and degree
I can’t understand why they’re all so adverse.
It’s only rain, Not like it hurts.
Yet at the first sight of it, everyone scatters.
I honestly don’t see what’s the matter.
I simply tilt my head up and open my mouth wide.
The rain tastes wonderful to me, why would I go inside?
And as I skip along splashing in puddles left and right,
I notice that one that’s glassy surface reflects a beautiful sight.
My breath catches in my throat as I look up to see,
A glorious rainbow stretching overhead in unparalleled majesty.
Like That of a Dying RoseThat of a Dying RoseLike That of a Dying Rose1 year ago in Literature Features More Like This
Her life was that of a dying rose.
With each petal that fell, her heart rate dropped
Grieving relatives watch as her breathing slows
Was there any way for this to be stopped?
Her tired eyes admitted solemn defeat
Death sits quietly at her side
With scythe poised to bring eternal sleep
Soon she will leave this world behind
It had all started with a simple cough
But then progressed to something much worse
No one suspected anything right off
They saw no need to send for a nurse
But when she began to cough up blood,
Her parents then knew that something was deadly wrong
Lung cancer, as it had turned out, had begun to bud.
Throughout her treatment she did her best to stay strong.
Now here she lies in her final hour
So utterly alone in her hopeless state.
The last petal falls, spiraling downward,
and so ends the tragic life of Clarice Bates.