SorrySorrySorry5 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I've screwed up pretty badly,
And I don't know what to say.
My only option, sadly,
Seems to be to go away.
Only your forgiveness will
Restore this love gone cold;
Redeem a lovely friendship
You and I might have and hold.
FriendshipFriendshipFriendship5 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Our lives pass like a dream,
Revealing only what is on our minds.
Inside the prison of the self we see
Each object as a shadow on our wall.
Nothingness awaits, as sure as night.
Did I not have you, dear friend, I might,
Shadow on a shade, not be at all.
How much we need a word beyond our sea:
In love and laughter, thoughts of different kinds,
Perhaps, with luck, unraveling a seam.
Dreams that die..Once I felt important.Dreams that die..6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Special and adored.
The world revolved around me,
In your eyes.
How fleeting is it,
That all good things do end?
No matter how much you try
To avoid it.
It rests on my shoulders,
I feel it like a weight
And you, you are so perfect,
I cannot live up to the pedestal
I was once placed on.
Set up to fail.
Your illusions were magic
I believed. And I fell.
You pulled me in to your web
And wrapped me tight.
I felt love.
I gave all I could.
Time, hours, minutes.
More than I should.
More than I truly had.
But I cared and I wanted you to see that.
I gave what I got.
I knew fairytales were just dreams.
That moments of feeling special, were false.
The efforts once given dissipated.
And you wonder why I cry?
Yet you dont see it.
Dont hear me.
It is me, all through and through.
Im the one to blame.
Im the one at fault.
Dont you see how youve changed?
How the moments of laughter and light
Were once so special to me?
The small th
Why Free Market Capitalism FailsIn this essay, I expose the flaws in the two mechanisms that are supposed to power the free market: Adam Smith's invisible hand and trickle down economics. The notion of the invisible hand holds that in a free marketplace, the buyer's self-interest will tend to drive the price down, while the seller's self-interest will tend to drive the price up, so that both parties' self-interest will naturally cause the price to settle on an amount that both find reasonable. Trickle-down economics maintains that the rich are the ones who start and expand businesses and hire employees, so the laws should favor them increasing their wealth as much as possible so they can hire more people, thus growing the economy.Why Free Market Capitalism Fails4 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
These concepts look good on paper, but the best way to evaluate any idea is to see how it works in practice. Let's start by analyzing nationa
DreamsA caustically fabricated memory sets a spark in the first exhalation of morning (afternoon?) and she has the urge to cry.Dreams4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
To think that dreams -nightmares- could hold her heart with such terrible claws (but the thoughts of him hold reigns so tightly on her back; he knows many pretty women, and it's only natural to worry after the undressing, the holding hands, the crying in front of him). To think that even sleep, once repose, could beckon tears and heart-shivers and immobility.
She ponders why, all of a sudden, sleep is frightening again.
Perhaps it's the empathy of her nature. She feels heart-wrenching guilt for moments long past; she feels hardening regret for things said to unkind people; she feels more love than she's allotted for those closest to her (goddamn, devotion is terrifying).
Perhaps it's the fear of vulnerability and pretty women and how sex is never right a few hours after (unless she can see the adoration in his eyes she will always feel objectified), and, though the
Halt vs. GoatTitle: Halt vs. GoatHalt vs. Goat6 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Fandom: Ranger's Apprentice
Word Count: 3,486
Of solace sleeping in today was the essence,Of solace3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
waking up the process of becoming singular
I want to end it
but I can't stop associating you with these images
: a season being flung onto the ocean, making a mess of color
there's an insect caught in my poetry,
trying to mend its broken wing
This is What FreeRepublic.com Actually BelievesAn Objectivist Morality Tale Delivered To You Filthy Ignorant Sheeple By Your Intellectual And Moral Superiors,This is What FreeRepublic.com Actually Believes2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It was a cold day in December and Chairman Comrade-For-Life Barrack Hussein Adolf Stalin-Obama was in the Red House (Formerly the White House) sitting on his throne made of pony skeletons eating live Christian babies with Dijon mustard. All of a sudden, two jackbooted fascists in Soviet-style communist uniforms marched in and saluted the giant framed painting of Karl Marx high-fiving the Prophet Mohammed that the President commissioned with money he illegally stole from hardworking Christian Americans ( Author’s Note: This passage is a subtle reference to the unconstitutional Federal Income Tax which the founding fathers never approved of. Taxation is the first step to Communism, see Atlas Shrugged for further truth on this subject.)
“Sieg Heil, Mein Socialist Fuhrer!” The uglier of the two men said, bowing before Comrade Barack
Fallen From GloryFallen From GloryFallen From Glory6 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
First the idea is formed in your mind
An adventure full of glory
The perfect story
Time to write it you will find
Now you sit to type your tale
The words pour forth like rain
You work hard but still are sane
In this task you will not fail
Suddenly you hit a wall
You know exactly what you wish to write
This writer's block you must fight
From glory your story must not fall
It takes some time but you soon break free
And the words you needed you again can find
The story you write will be one of a kind
Your story's glory you once again see
Finally you finish typing the last word
The last line of your story
In all of its glory
Your exclamation of triumph can be heard
Your next step is to show your family and friends
The praises of your skill they do sing
Their approbation of your story in your ears do ring
Glory to your tale their approval lends
With a happy heart you put your story away
The printed copy you tuck in a file
You shut the drawer with a satisfied smile
An Emergency PoemMy dear,An Emergency Poem5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I gave up trying to sleep.
I gave up trying to keep these words inside.
The smell of powder and pain is still poisoning the air.
I can still hear my mates crying at night.
But we are not going home yet.
This is the 1000th letter I sent, I know,
but this one is different.
This is a message.
An emergency poem.
I am writing not to report
how many men and women
have lost their souls in the battlefield.
This time it is for you. And me.
Because I am so sorry we ended up like this.
I am sorry the last few hundreds of letters
were all about blood and pain,
fights and revenge.
The war went to the head
and I only realised this now.
I turned this wish for revolution into war.
I turned the war against you.
I translated my pain into letters
and sent them.
I nearly forgot why I am fighting here,
but now I remember.
There were so many mistakes,
so many wrong choices that I have made.
You probably forgot whatever you used to feel,
and I cannot blame you.
I ended up doing the same thing.
And AgainHere we go again. Your naked core stripped of clothing,And Again5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Your fangs are their brightest yet again.
A little girl's heart locked in lady's chest
Imagination flares like the flickering
Faith of a candles flame.
One gulp, and breath betrays her.
Here we go again. Your skin flashy and pale.
Gleaming with sweat as your black eyes protrude.
Your hands are unsteady with madness yet again.
Struggling for air, as breathing becomes harsher
Plucking at her sanity, slowly dwindling
Her ability to stay conscious.
And here we are again. Look at me, I am
Your laboratory rat yet again.
I know when I wake up I will be still,
Slow pulsed and bleeding.
Like the last time you told me you loved me.
evolutionyou make me think of bygoneevolution4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
summers and being fifteen,
of endless prairie skies alive
with birds and clouds and bugs,
my heart stuttering in my throat,
mud splattering my bare legs,
opportunity stretching further than
the golden fields all around us.
memories press into my skin,
burrowing in the whorls
of my fingertips. those long
ago days sped us through
the mountains to this moment,
where that pink-tinged first love
has faded to something as easy
as my favorite worn-in shoes,
and I can remember with fondness
how you used to make me feel.
twelve hours green.he calls me and tells metwelve hours green.7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
that his toothbrush
is an ocean green like
his fading bedroom
walls. and i call and
think that i dont have
a favourite number. but
i dont even know what
we should spend twelve
hours watching the
clouds fly past
and twelve staring at
the fragments of shining
rocks plastered across
the sky, until we leave
a dent in the grass
in the shape of
the different type of
world we live in.
i paint my hands in
speechless patterns because
colours always spoke better
Forget Me NotDon't forget me.Forget Me Not5 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I may not have done anything extraordinary or spectacular.
I may not have cured cancer or flown to the moon.
I may not have played in the big leagues or risen to the top of the corporate world.
I may not have even been anyone's mother or father, brother or sister.
But I existed.
I was a name among billions, a face in the crowd.
You may not have noticed me as you walked past me in the street, but I was there; silently watching you as you comfortably ignored everyone around you.
I was the one who did the things that you never thought of, the things you didn't dream of for horror that you may need to complete them yourself.
I was the one who quietly listened to your murmurings of dissent against the world and wordlessly sympathised with you for the tomorrow you so longed for.
I was the one who heard you dream big and silently encouraged you to follow that dream; fearing that any word coming from me would be seen as scandalous.
I was invisible to you but I was there for yo
PurgingThere are momentsPurging6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
As I sit here in the dark.
Where that brief light of happiness
Just beyond my fingertips.
in hope for a dream
That can never be fulfilled.
A history that will never be written,
And a tale that won't ever be told.
A legacy of truth,
Of pain and torment,
Of lust, delight and love
That lingers deep within my heart.
It is empty.
It is hollow.
It is void of sensation
For a simple touch in itself will
Leave it ashen.
Would it be
That a darkness churned
From the strength I do have,
And for a moment,
I can see a hope,
a glimpse of light that teases
just beyond the reach..
But dreams are just that
Imaginary and solitary
For there is naught else
That will taste the flesh as it purifies my bones.
There is naught else,
That bursts within me,
Be stilling to dust
As daylight rises
and darkness completes me,
Prize: Fairytale-PxF OneshotOnce upon a time~</b>Prize: Fairytale-PxF Oneshot7 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
If I were to say that I believed in happy endings when I was a child, Id be lying. As a young girl, I never experienced love. All I ever experienced was approval and disappointment. You see, my mother died when I was only three years of age and that left me to grow up with my father. In my fathers eyes, I was a mistake. I was supposed to be his heir, his son. But I ended up being a female which left him with two daughters and no one to continue the family name. Therefore, my father saw it fit that I become a prodigy, someone who could bring honor to our name and continue his legacy.
When I was five, my father took in a boy by the name of Miles Edgeworth and began to train him to become a prosecuting attorney. He cared for Miles and treated kindly, just as he would a son. I grew angry with Miles and refused to accept him into our family. I constantly teased him and I would call him Little brother just to show that I was the
Journey To HappinessJourney To Happiness4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The deeping twilight silence heard
In the whispers of a half dreamed word,
With new moon in a dreamless sleep
And sun, nostalgic vigil keeps.
The black-red light, a pulsing flood.
The ocean sky, from her virgin blood
That drains a living death, is born-
From the edge of time are softly called,
Two women walking, their sacred feet
On either side of the horizon meet.
One stares with eyes of burnished gold
And round her shapely figure holds
A robe of molten, blinding light,
Her face, in which, is hid from sight.
Each footstep burns an eternal road,
A tuneless song around her flows.
The growing things she once did mind
Have quickly withered, slowly died.
The other weeps from cloudy eyes,
A world of pain in each tear she cries.
Buried in a grey-mist gown,
Her face of steel, once more cast down.
Each footstep is a sodden march,
Her moaning wind is drifting past.
She regards her charges with a shifting frown,
All living things, she slowly drowns.
In the world upon the line,
We, between the tw
Charecter 2 IvanCharacter 2 IvanCharecter 2 Ivan5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Three days its been since ive last slept
And you know what? It couldn't be better even though when the crash comes ill proably sleep for the next three
Who am I you ask? My name is Ivan Braginski why have I been up so long? Methamenes better known as speed
Its only been a few months since I tried them they now rule my life Sure it has its drawbacks my sisters Natalia and Katyusha wont talk to me anymore Katyusha said something about me being "toatally different" on them but nobody believes a thing she says anyway
Which gets me thinking what would life be like if I ever stopped? Its too awful to think about
Shit the crash is coming have to stop writing
We Can Fly From HereWe Can Fly From Here5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Up in the sky,
The birds fly,
The songbird sings in foreign ancient tongue,
The sky moving,
The clouds perk,
The bird flies away.
The sun calls our name,
We chase the light,
We cross the bridge that connects us,
Breaking the barrier that divided us.
We climb our favourite apple tree,
To kiss the sun,
The wind touching us,
Gentle wind singing,
The rain dousing us in love.
Our mind, body and soul are free,
We run towards freedom,
We can fly from here
ParanoiaDime a cuantos pasos me encuentro de está, tu última morada;Paranoia4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
dime que razón me das de calor, de inocencia y de trovador.
Ya que las superficies inhóspitas de tu cordura me son ajenas, debo de entrar navegando en las arenas de tu locura, verte a los ojos cociendo caricias ignoradas en la historia de nuestra unión, viendo por siempre y hasta el fin estas creencias exageradas, banalidades de petulancia y de prejuicio, o el fondo de las arenas de este tu desierto abierto de pecho.
A media noche descubro tu realidad, no veo mas haya de tus vítreos ojos, que no han dejado ver tu horizonte, que no me permiten tomar el sueño, el manto de mis lamentos ni la realidad de tu cuerpo.
¿He visto aquellos viejos lagos de sal solo para perderme en tu ironía?
Si es así la verdadera elocuencia de tus preocupaciones son un fiel reflejo de tu verdad inédita, de tu color ajeno, de tu maligna prioridad, que no es más que no quedarte sola, no quedart
Perspectives, or What if Feminism was sexist?I wish I could just vanish from this place. Right now.Perspectives, or What if Feminism was sexist?2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It's almost 10 pm, though, and it would be too dangerous to even go for a walk. Mom and dad would never let me. Yeah, okay, I'm 14, but still, it's just a walk! Mom would go if she wanted to. But dad wouldn't...
I have to study, anyway. History is boring as hell, but sometimes I find something worth reading while I'm going through all these books. Like for example, when it talks about the beginning of computers.
"Hey, did you know it was a man who first invented the computer?", I asked my parents, while sitting on the living room floor with my books.
"Huh?", my mom replied, trying to divert her attention from the television.
"Computers. It was a man who invented it."
"Ah, sure", she said. "It happened a lot, actually. Men creating things."
"Mmhm. As long as there are women to make it work", she laughed at her own little joke and focused again on the screen.
I sighed and looked over at dad. He was obviously finding that TV
Do not pity meI do not need your pity.Do not pity me5 years ago in Emotional More Like This
Just because I cannot have what you are receiving, does not make me a lesser person. It only means that my life is taking different turns to yours. Everyone is different and makes different decisions. Just because my choices are different to yours does not mean that you have the right to look down on me.
You may think that my choices have made me bitter. Maybe they have. Time will tell if you are right.
But do not pity me my choices. They are MY choices and mine alone.
Letters Of LoveFrom the moment I turned on you,Letters Of Love5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I've felt deserving of death,
For my feelings are and have been true,
I scream your name under every breath,
I see your smile in my mind as vivid as a photo,
I could sketch you purely from memory,
Outline all of your striking glow,
But for acceptible ability,
Though these letters of love may fall before blind eyes,
It's for you I still write,
Praying you dont think they're lies,
That one day I may hold you tight,
But now I Fear to say those words in my head,
That may push you away so far,
But I'd rather see my blood shed,
Than to deny my feelings for you,
You're the first I've ever felt this strong for,
Let's make one last fight,
to open the door once more,
And make it right