One Of My Favorite Poems Of All time
A Prisoner :A fragment By Emily Jane Bonte --- IN the dungeon-crypts, idly did I stray, Reckless of the lives wasting there away; "Draw the ponderous bars.
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A Prisoner :A fragment By Emily Jane Bonte --- IN the dungeon-crypts, idly did I stray, Reckless of the lives wasting there away; "Draw the ponderous bars.
Are we made to love. As a man I wonder. For every female that I meet I just find such beauty, such grace. It is as though they don't quite belong.
[Intro]. (spring breeze blowing spring leaves). Faint 8/8 cymbal beat. Sweeping Piano. 'we can start to to to to. dawn here'. (distant choral voices). Cello provides a dramatic, theatrical intro.
I have itchy feet A world for me to explore Although I'm happy I'm hungry for more My life is ticking I can't slow down time There's so much I want Too much to make mine I'm a country girl But...
Characters: Rose (mother of Alice) Alice Iley (Rose's friend) Amelia (British reporter) Belle (saloon girl) Dove (saloon girl) Setting: In Virginia City, Nevada during the Comstock Lode in 1860.
Little girl just a baby and they know; not maybe, That she is the the most beautiful, Girl in the whole entire world, And she's a pure living miracle.
I weep for the girls who can't read Or write Who think size Zero means P E R F E C T I O N .
All you see is the long blonde hair, The wide brown eyes, The mile-long stare. All you see is the dark brown roots, The long, slim legs, The military boots.
#bestofopuss ANGER. When my guy leaves the toilet seat up. FEAR. They don't have those gorgeous shoes in my size. SADNESS.
I'm sitting here, Trying to look pretty, and Sitting in a way that makes my legs look Long and smooth as polished wood, And graceful - like a dancers.
She has cracks Like a glass can have.
Maybe I am no longer the girl of your dreams. Maybe our love is no longer what it seems. Maybe I am no longer young on the outside. But you stopped listening to what's inside.
#colourchallenge. Eyes of icy blue. With peachy cream skin. Fiery red hair. And a mischievous grin. Awesomely curvaceous. Bee stung cherry lips. Cat like nails. Her sexuality drips.
If you just listen to what I have to say. Maybe you will know the woman in me. If you just listen to me some day. Maybe you will know there is more than what you see. Listen with your heart.
#emotion Emotions wound up tight With sharp edges that bite I'm a surly lass with storms forecast Batten down or take flight.
She sat in a world of her own singing to herself on a little hill over looking her little village. Cars hummed and horns honked as she stared at her little busy port village.
Well she had a face like a slapped arse. She never smiles even when asked. Cautious of the cracks under her painted on mask. She's never happy cos her youth won't last. Oh she's a disaster.
#youngwritershousehold We corrode and dissolve our own memories.
All she wants is for you to see. The woman she can be. All she craves is your touch. She craves this so much. All she needs is to feel. Then her heart may finally start to heal. All she is.
If I had lady-spider legs, I would weave a sky where the stars lined up. Matresses would be tied down tight to their trucks, bodies would never crash through windshields.
Blood red lipstick on her lips Glitter shadow on her lids black kohl frames her eyes Her hair sleeked back full of shine. 6 inch heels she can't walk in Legs hugged by leather she can't breathe in.
I'm mummy, mum, sweetheart and honey. I'm the one who cooks tea and handles the money. Im the runner, the cyclist the shopper extraordinaire. The woman with straight teeth and long lush hair.
You. You vain, hypocritical, jealous, bullying, smug, bitch.
You're all around me I feel smothered, You don't want me you just want to be mothered. We're trapped by the house and ring, I feel like a songbird without it's sing.