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Literature Text
A crash of thunder
from clouds in the sky,
A honk of the horn
from cars passing by,
The aimless chatter
of crowds in the street,
The rustle of leaves
as air feels the heat,
The pound of a heart
A tempo. A beat.
from clouds in the sky,
A honk of the horn
from cars passing by,
The aimless chatter
of crowds in the street,
The rustle of leaves
as air feels the heat,
The pound of a heart
A tempo. A beat.
Literature
Want
Want
I shake at the thought
but a smile creeps on my face
To me it's just a game
I compete for it; I'll win
This odd sense of want
The need is so abnormal
The who, a secret
The when, always
Why? A question I cannot answer
Maybe someday, maybe never
Nobody knows
But I can guess, right?
Do I even want it?
Or am I just escaping again?
Hide from my true needs
Pretend to feel otherwise
For once, I can never tell anybody
Not even my friends, family
Not even a stranger
And especially not them
My eyes dart, my thoughts wander
I feel my heart pound
My breath speeds up
But only when their near
Sure, I seem fine
You'd never be
Literature
O Butterland
O Butterland!
Our glory and our pride
For whom the Architect
Has commanded us to serve
With golden glow
and wonderous texture true
The butter shines in the sky
For artistic rights
O Butterland
We surrender identity
May the building rise
upwards to the sky
O Butterland
We shall always serve thee
O Butterland
We salute thee
Literature
Wishing So Well
Walked around
Thought yourself beautiful
They all stopped and stared
They all stopped and stared
Broke you down
Broke you apart
Stolen away
See how well you'll fare
Lying on the ground
Heart kicked around
Banished love unloved
Banished love unloved
You lost yourself
You lost your way
Found home shot to death
Build it again
So seduced into a way
You longed for the truth
Yet found they lied
Yet found they lied
Hide behind a smile
Fingers crossed so sly
Cradled in a cry
You hold your head high
On your lips
Lustful quips
For the better way
Wishing so well
Walk around
Know yourself beautiful
They all stop and stare
T
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My greatest, most developed skill is a gift to master 
and the legion of butter.
If I have not worked hard here on developing it further, let butter strike me down where I stand.
Because I'm moving and my printer/scanner got packed yesterday without my knowing, I will be unable to post any drawn artwork for at least a week. So instead of doing a traditional pencil piece, I'm posting poetry as my third task. Task no.2 will have to be done in a phisical medium because there's nothingI can do on my computer, art-wise that I havn't done before.
Anyways, I hope you enjoy my poem.
and the legion of butter. If I have not worked hard here on developing it further, let butter strike me down where I stand.
Because I'm moving and my printer/scanner got packed yesterday without my knowing, I will be unable to post any drawn artwork for at least a week. So instead of doing a traditional pencil piece, I'm posting poetry as my third task. Task no.2 will have to be done in a phisical medium because there's nothingI can do on my computer, art-wise that I havn't done before.
Anyways, I hope you enjoy my poem.
© 2009 - 2024 WhiteHawkDiving
Comments64
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I really dislike poetry. But I love short poems. That and your poem has a nice rhythm, and it's a nice read to the ears. If that makes any sense (probably doesn't xD)