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Literature Text
There he sits again, right at the door,
So he won't miss her when she comes.
Watching with those hopeful eyes,
Unmoving, undistracted. Waiting.
A crash disturbed the silence,
The noise echoing through dark streets,
And blood painting the concrete roads,
As the fragile body hit the ground.
His little paws, they stand unmoving,
His lively body sitting still,
Only his nose twitching, once in a while,
Hoping to catch the familiar scent.
The piercing wail of sirens followed,
Announcing the disaster
To the crowd that gathered at the scene,
As helpers lift her in the car.
For weeks he's been coming,
Every afternoon he sits to wait,
Hoping for her to return,
Only to be disappointed.
"Will she make it, doctor? Will she survive?"
He shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders.
"Her wounds are deep, her chances low,
But we will do our best to save her."
And though, for all that time, she hasn't come,
He doesn't seem to mind,
Returning yet another day,
Watching, listening. Waiting.
So that's where he sits, that day,
When a car stops at the lonely house,
And finally he smells familiar scents,
As all his hopes come true, at last.
So he won't miss her when she comes.
Watching with those hopeful eyes,
Unmoving, undistracted. Waiting.
A crash disturbed the silence,
The noise echoing through dark streets,
And blood painting the concrete roads,
As the fragile body hit the ground.
His little paws, they stand unmoving,
His lively body sitting still,
Only his nose twitching, once in a while,
Hoping to catch the familiar scent.
The piercing wail of sirens followed,
Announcing the disaster
To the crowd that gathered at the scene,
As helpers lift her in the car.
For weeks he's been coming,
Every afternoon he sits to wait,
Hoping for her to return,
Only to be disappointed.
"Will she make it, doctor? Will she survive?"
He shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders.
"Her wounds are deep, her chances low,
But we will do our best to save her."
And though, for all that time, she hasn't come,
He doesn't seem to mind,
Returning yet another day,
Watching, listening. Waiting.
So that's where he sits, that day,
When a car stops at the lonely house,
And finally he smells familiar scents,
As all his hopes come true, at last.
Literature
I Know You Hate Me Now But...
I Know You Hate Me Now But...:
Just give me a chance alright, I'll explain
To me, you're the girl that I notice everything about.
The way you laugh, the way you smile;
We got along great back then, even if we don't now.
And to be honest, I miss that...
You had the most lovely silky smooth hair
You'd give me the cutest anime girl smile
I wish I'd talked to you more about Manga,
Hell you got me started on the whole thing.
You were fantastic at drawing too
Man I was always jealous of that talent,
And I loved your drawings, like I once loved you.
I wish that you could have been a professional.
I would have bought your book every mon
Literature
Girls
Girls
This poem is for all the wonderful women, ladies, girls
And I think women actually may rule the world,
But humans of the female persuasion are more than pearls
They’re diamonds; critical to man and his kind, but if men do rule the Earth,
It’s probably a woman’s universe
And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise
The world is yours and you can do anything your heart desires
And to the stereotypes and prejudice, you ladies should throw to fire
You’re more than just a pretty face, an object of desire, or housewife
You’re not meant to just play with barbies or like pink, being into sports is more
Literature
Waiting on Inspiration
I see all these messengers,
Spreading their words and meanings.
And I'm sitting here,
With run on sentences,
Or empty pages,
And no coherency.
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Comments21
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Very clear Well done and very sad