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HELP ME!!!
I scream at the top of my lungs
Yet for some reason, no on responds
Do they hear?
Do they care?
Of course not
No one cares about your pain
No one cares about your sorrow
Is it because I'm at the bottom of this hole?
This mile deep hole I dug myself
With the help of a few people, of course

At the bottom of the pit
I get lonely
And then you come along
Just drifting the way the wind carries you
You look so beautiful
You would never be bothered by an ugly like me
You drift by
Leaving me to sob my tears alone
Even more lonely than before
Is that even possible?
It is

Now I notice I'm alone
Now I feel it in my bones
As I discover that I am nothing
A worthless, shriviling nothing
You would never look at a nothing like me
I should've known
Instead my heart flew out of my chest
And right to you
Never to be reclaimed
I will miss you, heart
Along with her
But I understand why you left
Who would want to be left alone with me?
No one
So now I'm left alone with myself again
And I don't want to be here either
Left all alone
Just like I should be
Sorry if it's not as good as usual.
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You're right on the edge,
But you don't want to fall.
You're grasping in the air,
For anything at all.
Finally you find,
A place in my hand.
I begin to pull,
Bring you onto land.
Don't you worry.
You're safe here.
You'll be okay.
There's nothing to fear.
I see you crying.
You think of the end.
You feel so alone,
But I will be your friend.
Just talk with me.
You can even cry.
Just tell me everything.
Please don't be shy.
I just want you to smile.
I know it's tough to do.
Please just remember,
That I am here with you.
I suppose this is a lot like "I Love You", but it's directed at a friend of mine.
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What would it feel like,
To just disappear.
You wouldn't know,
If you just weren't here.
There is no feeling,
Because you can't feel.
You can't interpret.
You just aren't real.
It's so lonely here,
Where you used to be.
I look around,
But it's only me.
I was thinking about two things when I wrote this: suicide (not contemplating, just thinking) and the voice just disappeared since my dosage was changed.
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If I could draw, I'd draw the world.
I'd draw abstract with a bunch of swirls.
I'd draw some trees and a small lake.
I'd draw the truth, as well as the fake.
I'd draw my friends and I'd draw me.
I'd draw the details of everything I see.
I'd draw the visions in my head.
I'd draw the dreams from my bed.
I'd let you see the world as I do.
I'd capture what's known by few.
There's just some things words can't show,
Some parts of my head you'll never know.
My drawings are so terribly bad.
Artistic ability, I wish I had.
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These Words Aren't Pretty:

My verses are ugly and I admit to the fact
I can't use pretty language when I'm working with rap
Because the things that I write, are just the things that I feel
I ain't an Edgar Allan Poe or a Danielle Steel

And I'll be honest with you, I've got an envy inside
Because some poets got a flow that's as smooth as the tide
I read some stuff that they write, it's just so dope I ignite
Burning shame and my anger at the beautiful sight

And like birds of a feather, they're flocking together
These poets are the Gods and I'm nailed by the weather
But as the rain pours down, lightning resound;
I try to write pretty words but my lips remain bound

So deeply silenced by fear - the darkness I hear,
Afraid to be unloved by the ones I hold dear
I've hit the limit of time; my lyrical crime
These words that I've lived are just turning to grime.

So I wish I had their talent; just a sliver of that
If their skill was a mountain then I've broken my back
It's like the city of Gotham, where my poetry bleeds
I'm just the poet they've got, but not the one they need...


-Chen Yuan Wen, 21st January 2013
Aye maties,

After a long break, I be back. Honestly the recent stress has left me unable to write and during those days I'd see all the other poets writing beautiful things and I'd feel envious.

I tried to imitate it and failed, but that's when I realised that I should do what I'm good at, because the difference in my style is what makes it unique. In addition to being a horror and fantasy poet, I am (probably more than anything) an urban poet.

What I write is what is real and the streets will always be a part of me and my work. Thankfully though, I don't walk them with a cigarette in my mouth anymore.

-Captain Chen of the Black Fedora Pirates :iconwordofchen:

If you like my work and want to support me. Come buy my e-book for $1.99. I promise an epic fantasy you won't forget:



Want to stalk me? Here are some cool links:

My Facebook Page: [link]
Youtube Channel: [link]
My Gallery: [link]

Want to sell your soul to me? Join up with my pirate crew:

:iconblack-fedora-pirates:
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Tired, Exhausted, Drained:

I am bloody exhausted! Drained to the core of my soul.

I wake up every morning with bags; burning ever deeper into my eyes.

Sunken masses of flesh, reminding me that the dreamscape -

One in which I sought refuge; is now buried where it lies.

Yet still I force myself to trudge through this wilderness.

Forever caught in a moon drenched, delusory twilight.

An endless cycle of failure and renewed hope;

Giving rise to the very stubbornness that defines me.


-Chen Yuan Wen, 5th February 2013
Alright mates,

Me journey ended officially yesterday, but now it's time to bring on the FIRE. This is my latest work ^^ It's a shot-glass poem, a style which I developed to cater to people who don't want to spend ages reading long works but still want to get the emotional feeling. It's the middle ground between haiku's and the longer pieces that I'm used to writing.

This one is particular is from my upcoming book '50 Little Glasses'. I hope you'll all look forward to it, it's going to be a neat little poetry e-book that you can buy for a reasonable price (and no you won't need an e-reader to read it)

The concept behind this poem is simple: We're all tired and exhausted after going through each day. Sometimes you just want to give in. Some people have fantastic reasons for not giving in, but me personally; I'm just a stubborn bastard.

-Captain Chen of the Black Fedora Pirates :iconwordofchen:

If you like my work and want to support me. Come buy my e-book for $1.99. I promise an epic fantasy you won't forget:



Want to stalk me? Here are some cool links:

My Facebook Page: [link]
Youtube Channel: [link]
My Gallery: [link]

Want to sell your soul to me? Join up with my pirate crew:

:iconblack-fedora-pirates:
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Memories of War:

What is this long-lost memory inside?
Where oceans turn; what have we left behind
With star-burned wings out above the sky.
The sleeping sons are lovingly left to lie...

A thousand tears you've cried for all,
Now its time for you to fall!
Will you open up the door,
To the future we ignore?

Are you simply lying broken,
From the memory awoken;
Are you simply living lies,
Bitter taste with ropes you tie...

And the world will soon forget.

Fill my heart with this regret?

For the victims written in stone.

Unspoken sin you now atone...


Yeah I've seen this world where we livin' in pain,
Wrap my body round with chain.
Now we both know we be broken;
Give this man his smokin' token.

Held up guns with both his hands;
Not a boy he's cause he's a man.
Order comes by a suit and hand.
Will you flee or will you stand?


This is a memory of our war,
Of all the things that we can't ignore.
And staying blind to the cries of pain...


Will lonely ashes be what remains?


-Chen Yuan Wen ft. The C-Crew, 15th January 2013
If you liked my work don't forget to click that favourite button at the top :star: (^_^)/ Thank you

If you'd like to support my artwork and you have some spare change. Please take a look at my new e-book it's only $1.99 and available in multiple e-formats for purchase [you can even read it on your PC, phone etc.]:



Other Important Links:

My Facebook Page: [link]
Youtube Channel: [link]
My Gallery: [link]

Author's Comment:

Aye maties,

As I've stated I'm going back t' basics and so this is actually a song that I wrote yesterday t'gether with me old friends from me rap crew. The part in italics is th' guest rap sung by them and I do the clean vocals (no change in font) as well the rough dirty growls (bold).

My friend raps in a voice similar to snoop dogg's smooth style so I thought it worked very well with the overall chemistry of the piece ^^ His piece is in italics.

It was a lot of fun to do this song (gotta admit that) even if the topic might be over done, I was happy to explore it and doubly thankful for the chance :3

Enjoy mates.

-Captain Chenbeard of the Black Fedora Pirates :iconwordofchen:

If you really like me lots and want to show some epic support (other than just purchasing a book), following this link and read the journal (^_^)V >[link]<
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Alright, I'll bite.
I'll squirm and fold myself over
as a swelling of dough
pats down into itself;
hunkering down for the night.
I know when to fold
and when to hold; so I'll wait.

Wait while you leave me
packing up the uncomfortable
furniture in my mind.
I'll bubble wrap my dreams
and hold my breath in storage
and leave myself hollow
with only the echo of us inside.

You have me on the hook
So it's alright to let me wriggle
and slip through the carrion;
the wrecked remains of
my maggotous life.
I can't help but drop my head,
lose my pride, wait for death.

Maybe heads will roll
onto happily waiting Guillotine
and depart me from my troubles.
Until then I remain
the pestilent, petulant skeleton
rapping its ivory against the door
- Let me out of your closet.

I don't want to be
a secret that you hide from yourself
in the royal tower in your head;
a delusion, or the girlfriend
of only one personality.
I don't want to drape my cerements here
and let them stick to your floor.

If I must die, let me die.
Do not leave me in the cellarage
to roar about my desertship
to my destitution alone. To my ghost.
Do not doom me to a half life lived
waiting in your shadow
for you to finally say - I still love you.
Okay I spent the past couple of days in Stratford Upon Avon and last night went to see Hamlet, so you'll see some references to it, allusions to it.

You know how in romantic comedies two things happen (not in every one, I just mean sometimes these things happen in films and they are usually romcoms)

1) the girl gets dumped but convinces herself that he didnt mean it, so becomes stalker like and eventually boils his rabbit in a stew pot. Girl is seen as crazy deluded fool who believes she's too hot to get dumped.

2) the guy gets dumped but convinces himself that she didnt mean it, so tries to win her back and either succeeds or finds someone better in the process. Guy is seen as romantic determined hero who believes in love.

Same actions, different audience response. I feel like its that in real life.

You ever get that feeling like - this cant be it? - but if you pursue that youre just going to look desperate and like a loser. when in your heart you feel like that guy who just really believed

fuck.

fuck knows.








Alright, I'll bite. - I was thinking about the idea of bait on a hook. Being hooked. This is the introduction of that thought.

maggotous - is this a new word? My spellchecker hates it ?

I don't want to drape my cerements here
Do not leave me in the cellarage
To my ghost.
- Hamlet references
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I slid the blade across my wrist
Once
Twice
Again and again.

Maybe I’m an emotional freak.

I cause fights and arguments
Over
And over
Again.

Maybe I’m a troublemaker.

I use make up to make myself seem
Better
And…
Prettier.

Maybe I’m girly.

I complain about things
Even when sometimes
They’re not
That
Bad.

Maybe I’m an attention seeker.

I fall under so many
Stereotypes.

So maybe I am a label.

Or maybe
I’m just me.
Maybe?

Comments please, and critiques :)
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She is
laughing;
she tosses her hair back and
she laughs at the world
who cannot hope to match her stride.
She meets eyes unashamedly,
she is radiant with confidence.


She is shy,
timid,
her eyes are downcast and
her cheeks are mottled
red.
Her words are whispers,
her breaths are sighs.


She is a sly smile.
She is a soft
whisper in his ear.
She does not seem to know
who she is.


He wants
to peel back the layers.
(though they are both afraid
that what lies beneath

is ugly.)


He wants
to speak to her.
But the words are stuck
in his throat,
suffocated with the
absence

of

oxygen
and he has nothing
to give her.


He wonders
if there was ever any truth
in either of them.
In him for loving not-her
the way everyone loves not-her,
or in her,
for the elaborate
(gorgeous) fašade.


He wants to tell her
he adores her, but
he has no oxygen around her
(no words to give her),
no conviction to assure her with,
no one to love but fiction,
and he is silent.


(you are a contradiction.)
Hey guys! Sorry to be away for so long, but here's something from a poetry class I'm taking this term. If you recognize this at all, you're not crazy - it's a revamped version of this old prose piece ([link]). Tell me what you think! Better? Worse? Too flowery? Too simple? Or just tell me if you enjoyed reading it!

I'm gonna try to get more stuff up on here, but every time I take a new class I get scared to post anything original on here - especially if it's going into my writing portfolio. So I am honestly sorry if I don't post much on here. :C

(also i had this lined up and structure differently but frEAKING DEVIANTART asjafjkasf;aksbfNlkna)

writing @ ~AndThenYou
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