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You passed so bloody early It's difficult to tell Where this writing comes from I'm sure you wrote as well I was only young So the memories fade with age Scarcely any stories They might take up a...
There once was a boy named Izzy Who always happened to be busy Building a spaceship to fly by the stars The moon, the milkyway, some aliens, and Mars A Space Cowboy, he wanted to be Like his Dad, His...
#nightdwellers. Struck sideways hanging upside down. Viewing the world when the earth remains unploughed. Trapped by the weeds and the vines wrapped around my feet.
He stood at the crossroads, devoid of direction, A Rose he laid at his feet. Standing in silence, He savoured the moment, the ritual was now complete.
Started having a few beers with my mates. Every Saturday night drinking till late. Then the weekend got longer. The urge became stronger. Friday was the start of a three day binge.
#household @Timmsyy Upon broken old shelves The books lay lifeless No ones read them in years These books crusted with age here And it seems no one would even look Upon the old tales and stories...
I have often been questioned about growing up the son and grandson of high-sheriffs in rural coastal Georgia.
I met my father in the library along with the guests. I made their acquaintance and listened to their tedious conversations of business and foolish gossip.
"Ugh...Mmm... Oww, man..." It took him a few moments for his eyes to open, and then a few more to understand where he was. It seemed that Alex was inside a wooden hut of some sorts.
I watch you on the screen In your little bubble, Safe and sound, no trouble, In a world calm and serene, There you don't know the hardships Outside your little carriage, Affairs of money, health and...
Tom wrote this poem for his little grandson: What will you do in your life little one Will you pick up the ball and run and run Will you pick up the ball and run.
I lie here and rest, Tired on my bed, Surrounded by family, In my heart and my head. I have grown so old, And my time has come, So here alone I wait, To the sound of the drum.
I thought I'd write a poem. One for every day. That way my loves. You'll know my feelings in each and every way. From Sunday through to Monday. I'll have a thought to share.
"Come on lazy bones get up or you'll be late for school". Karen said to her daughter Carly who was seven years old and still tucked up in bed with her teddy 'Sampson'.
#opussundead You swear he came to see you, Visited you in your hospital bed. The only problem is, It was three years after he was pronounced dead.
A note about Sin’s pronouns: Sin refers to themself with male pronouns, as does Jay. Scott and Anya use gender neutral pronouns. Chris, Gordon, and pretty much everyone else uses female pronouns.
In the deep dark hills of Eastern Kentucky, that's the place where I trace my bloodline. And it's there I read on a hillside gravestone, You will never leave Harlan alive.
It was on my twelfth birthday that I discovered what I was; or my 'condition' as my grandma liked to call it.
We all have things that we always have in our person. May it be a phone or a bracelet or a bus pass. Mine is a ring. My great great grandmother's engagement ring to be exact.
I heard a knock on the door and I knew it would be him. I breathed in a long sigh before opening the door, to find out I was right.
I looked out my window, One cool summers eve. And i saw a bird, Skinny tall old thing. But little did I know this Bird would give me joy. For a few mounths later, We had a baby Boy.
You're only small And so was I When I first held My father's hand.
The reply to @leelee101 "Nick" So you think you have not seen me. Do you think that this is true. For you have always walked with me, as I have always walked with you.
My father always said to me the eyes are windows to your soul, A quite ironic quote for him, for one who's eyes so blue and cold.