sophie0311
I love the days you're allowed to laze, 'Cause yesterday was spent in a drunken haze. You lie in bed and say you're feeling fragile, You can't clean or cook, or do anything slightly agile. You stay in your pit, and watch brain dead TV You…
Her hazel eyes met his lustrous emerald. Nothing, no amount of pep talks, could have prepared her on how not to gaze into those eyes, and be drowned in them. Lily forced herself to remember the times when those beautiful eyes held nothing b…
How can two days be so different? How can Sunday be so meek? When Monday morning rears it's head, The beginning of the week? Sunday is a day for lazing, For lounging in bed all day, Or sitting still and people gazing, Or wandering to the …
It had been 3 years, almost to the day that he'd left. She had tried, but she couldn't erase that date, it was etched into her mind forever. September 11th 2001. How could she possibly forget that date? The whole world had watched in comple…
Trying something a little bit different, hope you like it. Her breath caught in her throat. She couldn't believe that after all this time, he could still quell her heart with a simple look. How often had she dreamt of this moment, lying al…
I awake with the best of intentions, I'm going to leap out of bed! Then the cold light of day splinters my eyes, I return to my slumber instead. I rise once more at noon time, Filled with self loathing and hate, I've wasted another morning…
Been sacked, oh no. Initial shock soon turns to woe. The initial freedom unemployment brings, Soon withers and dies, the last leaf of Spring. Sleeping and drinking all day sounds ideal, But soon turns to boredom, where is your next meal, …
When I first joined Opuss, Twas a week or so ago, I just couldn't stop writing, The juices seemed to flow. I'd write about anything That popped into my head. Then, quite inexplicably, The creation stopped dead. I'd read all the other post…
Let me tell you a story of a place I know well, It's drab and it's filthy and hotter than hell, The paintwork is peeling, the decor is grim, Clientele unfeeling and impossibly dim. It's where people go to forget about life, To meet up with…
My reptilian chum, he lives in turtle towers, His motions are hypnotic so I sit and stare for hours. My turtle friend is a prehistoric relic, Beware of his sharp claws, though his face is most angelic. Jean Claude Francois (for that's his…