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Literature Text
To lose yourself in your words,
Is to paint the emotions of being.
To relieve the mind of confusion,
Allowing the heart to float.
Our muscles exhale their tensions,
And the soul drifts into contentment.
Is to paint the emotions of being.
To relieve the mind of confusion,
Allowing the heart to float.
Our muscles exhale their tensions,
And the soul drifts into contentment.
Literature
The Power of Words
They can hurt,
And they can heal
Words can make you feel things,
You never thought you'd feel
And if you're not too careful,
It's your soul they will steal
Words are the bridge,
Between the future and the past,
Because words are the only thing,
That really, truly, last
When you are lonely!
They are there to read
When you have nothing!
They fill that space inside you,
That has become so empty
They never go away,
Not once they're heard...
That's the power of words
They can remind,
They cause regret
Words are the most powerful weapons,
That have been discovered yet
They make you strong,
Whenever you feel weak
Words can be
Literature
Comic Book Hero
We met in the Summer, I was single and free,
So fragile and sweet, he took care of me.
He was so much fun, exciting and new,
It was all so amazing, too good to be true.
Like a comic book hero, he swept me away.
He promised me the world, the night and day.
But his heart was untrue, his words were lies.
No comic book hero, but a villain disguised.
Our romance was deep, like Superman and Miss Lane
Iron Man, Miss Potts, Spidey and Mary Jane.
He impressed me with gifts, and words sublime,
Affirmations of how he would always be mine.
Like a comic book hero, he swept me away.
He promised me the world, the night and day.
But his hea
Literature
Strength
Strength is crying here
Washing over me,
kissing my weakness like butterfly rain singing
alone
watching for an opening to the world we always promised you'd belong
one day
one day, everything
will change and become something.
One day, things won't be so bleak
and strength is crying here,
the falling drops of inspiration,
inspiring freedom and loneliness and wildness, wrapped
up as one:
do you miss me?
But you don't love me.
Farther we'll go before it becomes
clouds of butterfly wings, broken
on the ground, in puddles of misery
and far too much dull monotony
the colours all sucked dry from too many tears
drowned in all the
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Comments7
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They're true words, my friend. Only those who knows it understands this.