Thousands of free stories. Support your favorites when you're ready.
Showing stories tagged with #rhyme Clear filter
My halo is a runned down and abused metal ring. I refuse any more to try to shine the damned thing. If you have to work so hard and be so perfect to go through the pearly gate.
Fuck the world and his Mrs, i'm fed up with the shit they put me through. I've got very little amo for the guns i've been sticking too. It's time to fight a little different and play a dirty game.
Smile. Yes it can be hard. Even though you do not know me, we are all part of one community. I want you to know that I'm here for you, and I will help you with everything you've been through.
Red, white and blue, Waving gallantly around. Patriotic's there are new, Now many can be found. Rowers rowing on the river, Arms aching, but smiling away. They've got no time to stop and dither.
I need her to stay safe,I want her to never let go, But my sweet child, confidence comes as you grow, It means eventually, no matter how hard I try, We won't ride the horses, and she'll ask...
There are a few things I want to do before I die. I'd love to pluck a single star out from the sky. To be able to run with wolves through the tundra snow.
I can't decide which colour would be you, The always winning Red or the moody Blue. Maybe the relaxed Green, but dark or light. I don't think this colour-giving is even right.
I'm the One for you, I know it for sure, I'm the One for you, You know that too. But you're not the One for me, With you I'm feeling lonely.
Brain is sore, It's such a bore, Ink running out, I start to pout. Maths, French, Biology, Music, Art and chemistry, D.t, R.e, F.t, P.E Abbreviations don't humour me.
From the Dream Lands, near and yet so far away, From the Rivers of Slumber and their misty spray, From the lullabies of the Night to which we sway, Wakes you up, softly, a Glorious Day...
Mooshi-monsters your kids are playing, Mooshi in German means pussy, I'm just saying. Go to Hungary, you'll often hear pussy-pussy, It means nothing but a kiss on the cheek, you naughty.
Are you the Rain or the Sun. Hot and adored or from you most of us run. One is never enough for you, You give most girls a burnt too.
The cut runs deep, Crimson drops the carpet does seep. Her pain is brief, But she sighs with relief. Pent up emotions trapped from within, Are now let loose onto her skin.
I'm sorry for my inadequacy and my failure as a friend. I just wish all of our pain and sorrow would come to an end. It isn't worth it, the pain and the strife.
It's a curious thing... A down right puzzle. How they encourage you to speak.. But slap on a muzzle. "Read. Read young ones." they drill in our heads.
Kitten /\...../\ ____>( ⊙ ,⊙ )<____ | | | T.V Box | Gather round boys and girls sit down and listen to the story I have in...
Sorry It's all I have to say I don't know how to put it Any other way I think back to all the things I did and said And I realise, that without you I would have ended, dead.
Whenever you came home, We asked why weren't you here all along, where have you been and why, We couldn't enjoy it, so we didn't take the time.
Certainly not my best, bit random, but I'm bored, so please forgive. Someone's pinched my pant. Just wait. this will be my rant, Of hate. Against the person who pinched my pant. Rant. Rant. Rant.
Roses are red. Violets are blue. You have always cared. There is no one like you. You will never be dead. But my time is due. I never cared. I deserve to be dead. But I love you as I have always said.
I'm sat in my room staring at this blank bit of space on my phone. Wondering to myself deep in thought of how to make it my own. You see... When I write, i'm not in it for the glory.
You're with Casanova now. His words, a sweet poison on your lips. You're with Casanova now. His hands, dangerously low on your hips. You're with Casanova now.
In the dark her eyes shone, as pure as moonlight, Within her small pale hands, she held tight; A silver locket, covered in twining swirls, And on the face, lay three crystal pearls.
I thought of the night, as a symbol of wrong It's cold hands wrapped tight, until the birds' morning song And people will tell you, of the danger that lurks While the sun gets its rest, it's evil...