I am 67.67%: I am 67.

I am a girl.
I am 100% human.
I am .33% sugar, .33% spice, and .34% everything nice.
I am 2% shy.
I am 3% out-going.
I am 4% brains.
I am 5% sassy.
I am 6% nice, kind, and funny.
I am 12% protective, terrotorial, and defensive.
In other words, I am 33% straight.

And I am 67% lesbian.

I am a lesbian, but I can't be proud.
Because the homophobic pigs yell at me, oh, so loud.
Why, frowned upon by society, am I?
Most people can't even look me in the eye.

I am a girl dating another girl.
And this makes some people want to hurl.
And I understand that.
I know that it's just a fact.

But here's an interesting fact for

10 Ways of Looking at DeathDeath: 10 Ways of Looking at Death

I.
Something inescapable.
The only way to escape
The insanity we are forced to call
Life.

II.
Life's ultimate tax.
Unlike taxes,
We pay with our lives,
Not our money.

III.
A reward.
A ticket to Heaven
For a life of good deeds.

IV.
The monster hiding under the bed.
Always lurking,
Waiting to strike
When it's least expected.

V.
The vultures following a dying animal
Waiting to end it all
When you're at your weakest.

VI.
The silence before the storm.
The master behind the lightning.
The beast behind the thunder.

VII.
God's hitman,
Doing the dirty work
Of the ending of life
On Eart

I...Still Love You...I...Still Love You...

You.
You and your idiotic wisdom, your alleged male intellect.
You've torn out my heart a thousand times over
With a blasé expression on your face.
A shout,
A whack,
A moan.
And then you're gone.
And you took my heart with you
But...

I...still love you.

You SaidTears: You Said

You said you loved me.
Drip.
You said you cared.
Drop.
But the truth is you never did.
Drip. Drop.

You said you'd be honest with me.
Drip.
You said you'd be loyal.
Drop.
But the truth is you never were.
Drip. Drop.

You said you'd never leave me.
Drip.
You said you'd always be there.
Drop.
But the truth is you never were.
Drip. Drop.

You said you needed me.
Drip.
You said you wanted me.
Drop.
But the truth is you never did.
Drip. Drop.

You said all those things.
Drip.
But you never told the truth.
Drop.
And you left me drowning
In a sea of my own tears.
Drip. Drop.
Drip. Drop.

My BrosPen and Paper:
My Bros

I am a writer.
I, like all others, have bros.

But my bros are different.

My bros are my pen and paper,
My hands and my mind,
My laptop and my keyboard,
The words I write that I cannot speak.

Without my pen, my paper,
I'd be nothing.
A shell of a man with ideas
And nowhere to put them.

Without my hands, my mind,
I'd not be able to write.
A hollow case filled with air
Where my mind should be
And stubs for hands.

Without my laptop, my keyboard,
I'd not be able to make money.
For how else would I get my finished works
Edited
Published
Copied
Printed
And distributed
To all those who wish to read my

The Drunken ManA man, drunk at the bar
Wearily stumbles out to his car
Pops open the driver's door
To be branded a murderer forever more

Shoves the key in,
Pinned, the gas petal's been
Rocketing down the highway
Driving in his own way

Swerving, swerving
Quite unnerving
Crashing, crashing,
Lights are flashing

Impaled with the guard rail,
She doesn't hear the sirens wail
Death grips the scene,
An icy countenance its mien

The drunken man
Unharmed-damn!
Crashed into a young dame,
Dead on contact-what a shame!

The drunken man
Hurled in jail
The young dame's parents
Hear them wail

Then-
Silence.
15 minutes later
Death rides again.

What Have I Done?Blood: What Have I Done?

You lay there,
Unmoving,
On the ground
With a hole as black as my heart in your chest.

From that hole sprouts a dark-red rose.
Then the flow of fruit punch that follows;
It's as red as ripe watermelon.
It's as thick as a fog bank.
It's as flowing as a river.
It's as irreversible as the wind.
It's as deadly as--

--Me.

I don't know what to expect-
For you to get up off the ground,
To shake yourself off,
And to tell me it's okay.

You don't.

Then it hits me-
Like ice-cold water, it hits me:
You're dead.
You're not coming back.
And I'm to blame for this atrocity.

What have I done?
WHAT HAVE I DONE?

The PoetI am a poet.
The pen is my lover.
The paper is my friend.
The language of my emotion has no end.

God Planted A Rose GardenGod Planted A Rose Garden

God planted a rose garden.
Billions, actually:
Everyone has one.

But not everyone's life is
Full of hope.
There's not always
Gunna be roses at the end of the path.

God laid out a path for us
To each of our rose gardens.
And then he covered them
With stones.

We have a choice
Of what to do with these stones:
To throw them,
Stumble upon them,
Climb over them,
Or to build with them,
The theory being that
We can get to our rose gardens
If we get it right.

But once we finally get to
Our rose garden,
There's a chance that there
Won't be any roses.
Just weeds that need to be yanked
For the roses to

We Stood ThereUnder the Rain: We Stood There

Under the rain,
I stood there,
The raindrops like my teardrops,
As I watched you walk away,
Uncaring,
Unfeeling.

Under the rain,
You stood there,
The rain like fuel
Feeding your flames
Of hatred
And maliciousness.

Under the rain,
You stood there,
Holding my fragile heart in your hands,
And smashing it to smithereens
For a girl that'll never be there for you
When I always was.

Under the rain,
I stood there,
Wanting to cry, to shout,
When I realized
You never deserved me.
And I got over you.

And under the rain,
I stood there,
Strong, powerful.
Free from you.
And that's when
I no longe

FactionsBlack man hates White man, and Green man loathes Gray,
Gray man beats Red, for his deviant ways,
Red man and Scarlet have always been close,
And form an alliance against other folk.

Purple and Beige men are all quite convinced,
The world would be better without men of Pink,
And the heinous acts meted out by the Golds,
On the poor Pastel factions are best left untold.

The cultures of Yellow and Blue are now past,
As Green men subsumed them and wiped out their caste,
And Brown men have conquered what's left of the Tans,
All driven by fear of their fellow man.

From the midst of this chaos arises some hope,
The words of calm reason t

The Harshest PlaceThe Harshest Place

Red, sandy dunes
Glowing, glimmering, glorious,
'Neath the light of the full moon
Giving beauty to even
The harshest of places

Cacti poke the black sky,
Spanning forever onwards,
Illuminated only be the scant light
Of the white shining stars
And the silver face of the man in the moon.

The coyotes howl,
The owls hoot,
The stray tumbleweed
Flutters shakily in the breeze
Of the quiet,
Unforgiving,
Desert.

Secrets in a NutshellSecrets in a Nutshell

Little nut,
Little nut,
Hidden in your shell,
Tell me:

What do you see?
Why do you hide, little nut?
Have you secrets you cannot speak?

Because I'd gladly join you
So my secrets could be hidden, too.

I'll Be ThereHold my Hand:
I'll Be There

Hold my hand, dear-
It'll be alright.
Don't let your trepidation show,
Even though it's hard.

Hold my hand, dear-
Because my love for you
Is the sea-
Never ending,
Always there.

Hold my hand, dear-
Walk side-by-side with me.
Don't cry, even though life is rough-
Keep quiet
Calm
Controlled.

Hold my hand, dear-
Because I'll be your rock.
And I promise to you
That I'll always be there.

Just like you were
For me.

The love of AshterAshter's love

Voices ringing
Like a clad of darkness
Banshees singing
Embracing madness

White roses burn to dust
Sorrow within my heart
Restrained sins of lust
It's tearing me apart

Blood slides down the fragile arm
Promises left for broken
Keeping one safe from harm
Hypocrisy's only token

Save me from myself
I can't take it any longer
The picture on a wooden shelf
Emotions ever so stronger

Love is a widow's song
A bird's broken wing
A mirror of all wrong
A tune she used to sing

Love is a broken vow
The tainting of all light
Accepting what is now...
Straying the path of right

Obsession like a fragile flower
A most l

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Given Up

by *dragonrider745, Nov 29, 2012, 4:48:13 PM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

Given Up

This paper has never been whiter.
This pencil has never been sharper.
This pen has never been so functional.
This garbage bin has never been emptier.

This garbage bin is as empty as my head.

No ideas.
No thoughts.
Nothing.

But sure, I'll still try, right?
Wrong.

I've tried writing.
A thousand times I've tried!
And for what?

Nothing.

I'm done with the dissapointment,
The aggravation,
The frustration,
The block.

My hopes, trashed.
My dreams, dead.

I give up.

I can't do this anymore,
Trying to write when I clearly can't.

I'm done.
I can't do this.

I.
Give.
Up.

332

25 33 2

Given Upby *dragonrider745

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I just...don't even know.
I just feel like I can't write anymore; this is the first thing I've actually written since high-school began, and it's not exactly fantastic.

Its just frustrating that I've had writer's block since August...I don't plan on giving up writing, it's just that it's hard right now.

Thoughts, comments, critiques, all are welcome...positive and negative feedback both appreciated.

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File Size: 883 bytes

Views: 332
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Critique by ~ben96lim Nov 30, 2012, 4:11:30 AM

I think there's like an edge in this poem, something amazing. It has all the despondency of failure and all the frustration of ineptitude. The one liners are shocking and effective. I really liked it. It was haunting beautiful and sad all at the same time. And the repetition really plays into the idea of this blank and at the same time the sort of inability to see anything else? Only thing I don't really like is the ending. Like there's a lot of build-up in the poem, and I think I would have liked to see resolution? But I guess the drop is equally impactful so yeah. Keep it ip! I hope to see more from you ^^

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~cjawesomest Nov 30, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

I believe that any emotion or feeling can be expressed in writing, and you, my fine friend has just proved my hypothesis. Your poem clearly captures the feeling of a writer with writer's block and, honestly, I think this poem could be an inspiration for many people with writer's block. Keep at it! You're a great writer!

*dragonrider745 Dec 2, 2012 Student Writer

Thanks, Crawford

I don't believe that to be a hypothesis, but a fact, not solely proven by me, but by many other fine writers as well

!WiNGz69 Nov 29, 2012 Student Writer

We've all been there but look, you have writers block but you actually turned your block into a rather good piece

. I'm actually feeling a bit of writers block in my life right now but I think we'll get through it

*dragonrider745 Dec 2, 2012 Student Writer

Thanks! I was hoping maybe it would just go away after this...hasn't so far...
Well, hope you get through your writer's block then!

~KuraiTenshiV Nov 29, 2012 Hobbyist

First this is really good. i have a friend that is having the same issue id like to send this to her if you do not mind. Second there is a technique that a teacher used to tell us about. Go to your mall or a public place and pick a person, and in the most elaborate way describe them. or their actions shopping walking what not. It helps some times others you end up a few pages of stuff on a couple people.

*dragonrider745 Dec 2, 2012 Student Writer

Thanks! Yeah, of course you can send it on!
I've never heard of that before...when I find the time I might have to try that. Thanks for the tip!

~KuraiTenshiV Dec 2, 2012 Hobbyist

No problem just hope it helps.

~Dragon-Demygod Nov 29, 2012

We all have those moments, just hang in there and it will pass. Eventually.

*dragonrider745 Dec 2, 2012 Student Writer

Yeah, I know, it's just been so long, ya know...? At least 3 months...but hopefully it will pass soon.

~Dragon-Demygod Dec 2, 2012

Indeed.

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