Do you have any piece of writing?

Question

Do you have any Piece of writing at all?
It can be a poem, song, or a story, true story that happened to you, or even the most EMBARRACING day you ever had.
Bye!

Answer 1

"The Differance Between Love and Depression"

Depression is deep
Love is deeper
What is it that makes you weaker?,

Depression is hard
You feel so alone
It doesn't matter if your family is at home,

Love is pure
Always on a high
You both can be be fighting, still loving each other inside

I may be depressed
This is all very true
May God bless you with the pure love that I once knew

Answer 2

Once when I was about 6, my dad and I were on a busy train platform. There was a board that said when the next train was coming and suddenly it said correction in big letters. But there was obviously something wrong with the board and it didn't say correction but ccrrection. I thought this was hilarious (because I was 6) so I grabbed the sleeve of what looked like my dad and said really loudly, "look dad! ccrection!!!!" turns out it wasn't my dad and I went an unnatural shade of red.

Answer 3

out cast

what have i done ,to much?
or fallen short
they say in the end its the wink of an eye
will i ever walk the streets without a ghost
or without this pebble in my shoe
i gave you my love
you gave me trouble
the streets of the city of angels
shines like a diamond bullet lodged in my forehead
my love has been dragged behind a bus
reduced to a sideways glance
in some seedy bar
still i seek your ungrateful heart
though my mind is ripped and my heart torn
no rose just a jagged thorn
the feast is now a fast
i am the outcast

jethro

Answer 4

What We See:

As time floats by,

I begin to sink,

Twisted in this lie,

I forget how to think,

I find myself lost in misery,

Of those we love; our lost souls,

We begin to realize what we see,

Their hands as black as coals,

They seek the dark of night,

Longing to be someone's sorrow,

They do not wish to regain sight,

Of the possibility of tomorrow,

Changed beyond recognition,

We forget what they used to be,

Staring at their wavering sin,

We finally realize what we see




Fly :

Torn wings carry this butterfly
On broken souls her hopes reside
Lost causes sing her a lullaby
In only her dreams can she confide.

Tell them secrets of love and betrayal
Watch as her wings tear and decay
Glance at her body shaken and frail
Pray that she lasts another day.

For on that day she'll lose her disguise
And on that day she'll make things right
Give her just one more sunrise
Let it last until the night.

But these wings are slowly dying
And this life is fading fast
And her eyes they wont stop crying
And her life just cannot last.

So she grips onto reality
With all that she's got left
And leaves her life of sin and greed
And does whats for the best.

She tears away her wings of hate
And leaves them now for good
She prizes her soul from her withered fate
And moves to a life more understood.



Sometimes I don't know what to do. So I write out my feelings.
Go check out my poem "Cinderelly" on my questions. Thank you.
=]

Answer 5

OK..this was written AGES ago, when my writing wasn't very good..trust me, my writing has improved. Its just a little extract from my story 'Intruder' set in Istanbul, Turkey.

I ran downstairs as fast as I could. Michael had ripped up a carpet and a set of floorboards. "Do you want to get yourself killed?" I asked.
"You might want to take a look at this" He said.
"I don't understand" I repeated. Michael had passed me an album of photo's with the title 'les malheureux' on.
"We have to get out of here" Michael said. "And fast"
"Why?" I asked.
"All of these pictures. They’re with victims the day before they died" Michael insisted. He passed me a collection of newspaper articles that had been
highlighted with gold rings around certain words.
"This woman has a lot of enemies" I said.
"Sure does" He replied. "Look, Mark Wagner, Luke VanHuss, Cray Selby. They all died on a Tuesday"
"Michael" I said taking a deep breath. "My mum died on a Tuesday"
"Are you sure? Think, think, think properly" He panicked.
"I don't need to think. She died Tuesday the 8th of July. I'm positive"
Michael ran through the pictures. "Tell me what your mum looked like"
"Quick, tell me what she looked like!"
"Blonde hair, nice figure, smiley..."
My heart started to beat faster and faster with every flick of a page. "We can do this in the car" I said.
"Hang on" Michael said.
He froze. "What is it?"
Michael stared at a picture. I tussled it out of his hands. "You don't want to see it! Don't look at the picture!" Michael shouted.
It was too late. I'd caught site of Mum's work badge.
Olivia was the last person to see mum alive.

Thank You :-)

Answer 6

Vending machine out of order.
(written by me April 9, 2002)

Answer 7

Yes; I've written poems, lyrics and two novels. I don't think this is the place for them though.

Answer 8

Wrote this short poem to God, as a thank you.

God...
Thank-you for creating Love when you started this creation.
And for the people who don't have Love.
Thanks also for Masturbation !!!!

Answer 9

Surely you mean 'embarrassing' ... one of the first rules of writing is correct spelling, dearie.

Answer 10

Message on my tee shirt, written in Braille:

If you can read this, you're too close.