|After reading a few, sentimental pieces, and not crying or wanting to commit s.. (standard:poetry, 244 words)|
|Author: Spotlight||Added: Feb 26 2001||Views/Reads: 3321/0||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|If anyone has noticed... I don't write the same a lot. IF there is a theme in my writing, its pretty much this. Have fun... IT RHYMES!!!!! WOW!!! (one of my FAVES)|
After reading a few, sentimental pieces, and not crying or wanting to commit suicide... by Spotlight Poems are like songs that sing the synchronized ticking and rhyme of stereotypical personality. I'd love to see, them, the poets that scream their soul and touch nothing of what they mean. Like a television screen, we view the words and perfect realization hits us, with no imagination. Theres no alliteration, no real stab wound, no sense of personal joy, just a bunch of cliches. They probably live their days like their poetry, fitting into the regiment of being different, odd. "I love you dear," "Oh god, the pain," "Fill your spirit," "Demons in my brain." "Though we are apart, Your always in our heart" Will people learn that sentiment and power, is not the perfect rhyme? When tears blur my eyes, when I punch at the air, when I feel someone I love beside me, content, my brain doesn't vent in beating rhythm, it screams out words I never knew I could say, and takes away all structure, all premeditation. The paper and my feelings, written in a fit. I don't ask for it, it comes. It flows its own course, not by the drum of a shitty Dr. Seuss. But, whats the use in trying to appease the few intellectual elite that find the words beautiful, when all I need is to fill mine full of hearts and god and blood and sex and mindless un-expression? Tweet
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