When Good Nature Turns BadA curtain of ocean, trimmed with sand, Sometimes savage, sometimes still. Most oblivious to It’s beauty, I strolled at length until,When Good Nature Turns Bad
I was enlightened to a fact, This thought that occurred to me, That I may never return here; To the savage, silent, sea.
“So I’ll make the most of it!” I said; “Damn my inhibitions to Hell!” And in that moment of true impulse, I stumbled across a shell.
An exquisite shell it was, Colourful and in no way drab. I put it to my ear to hear: The Ocean. Instead I felt a crab.
Whose Rhyme is it Anyway?My Mother read my poetry, Once when she found the time. She said to me: "How can this be? Your words all seem to... rhyme!"Whose Rhyme is it Anyway?
I replied "Dear Mother, do not fear, For I'll let my talent shine! I swear to all: from this day on I won't rhyme another line!"
I mean... time!
No...word.
"Never again shall one see me, Matching words that sound the same! And nary another day will show me, using rhymes to rise to fame!"
Wait... acclaim! Dangit!...prominence.
"So I've not a clue, what this might do, To my mental state
And Then... There Was Poetry.
i like your creepy eye thing and i see red arts.
im not an artist but i can tell it's quite good.
and thanks
haha thats nifty, but mine's an A5. I'd go crazy doing this stuff on A4.
GUESS WHO?
--
I got static in my head...the reflected sound of everything.
Tried to go to where it led, but it didn't lead to anything.
Previous PageNext Page