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Literature Text
The secret keeper has a pond
No one knows or even cares
He gave goldfish up for bottles
And everyday he sits and stares
At all the floating secrets
That litter his blue pond
He often asks them questions
But rarely do they respond
You see he needs their company
A crowd of silent friends
Those who don't make you the god
To which they need to make amends
Every morning bright and early
He grabs a bag too heavy for his back
And tugs it to his spot
Where everything fades to black
He can't remember hearing
Everything that's said
Nobody that whispers in his ear
Knows he's seeing red
Who would ask their safe place
What's lurking in the dark?
Check its closet for skeletons
And ask who left a mark
Every so often he forges signatures
And writes a secret of his own
Then when no one's looking
He drowns it like a stone
To all the friends that have one
A secret keeper you hold dear
It takes some thought to realize
He doesn't care for every tear
While you were sending him a note
He punched an old brick wall
But said he cut it up on eggshells
Saving Humpty from his fall
He savors every smile
While hiding behind his
No career is perfect
But nothing ever is
He feeds the bottles everyday
And watches the ink fade
But when your secret worsens
The ink is at its darkest shade
The secret keeper tends to worry
Should he stitch his lips?
Or sew in a new zipper
For fear that a secret drips
Just pours straight from his mouth
Like a waterfall of deception
He'll lose his keeper title
Become a gossip of social misconception
The secret keepers mind will wander
Every time he lay in bed
"Worst case scenario,
They may end up dead."
There are many bottled notes
Quoting those 6 words
All in different cursive
Read by only mocking birds
No matter how he writes it
It's always in his mind
And at any remote moment
With his thoughts it's intertwined
Even he has tales
Everyone has sins to share
Every shoulder soaked with tears
Has stories made to scare
But the secret keeper has no secrets
Just a pond to tend
Bottled notes to care for
Lips sealed till the bitter end
No one knows or even cares
He gave goldfish up for bottles
And everyday he sits and stares
At all the floating secrets
That litter his blue pond
He often asks them questions
But rarely do they respond
You see he needs their company
A crowd of silent friends
Those who don't make you the god
To which they need to make amends
Every morning bright and early
He grabs a bag too heavy for his back
And tugs it to his spot
Where everything fades to black
He can't remember hearing
Everything that's said
Nobody that whispers in his ear
Knows he's seeing red
Who would ask their safe place
What's lurking in the dark?
Check its closet for skeletons
And ask who left a mark
Every so often he forges signatures
And writes a secret of his own
Then when no one's looking
He drowns it like a stone
To all the friends that have one
A secret keeper you hold dear
It takes some thought to realize
He doesn't care for every tear
While you were sending him a note
He punched an old brick wall
But said he cut it up on eggshells
Saving Humpty from his fall
He savors every smile
While hiding behind his
No career is perfect
But nothing ever is
He feeds the bottles everyday
And watches the ink fade
But when your secret worsens
The ink is at its darkest shade
The secret keeper tends to worry
Should he stitch his lips?
Or sew in a new zipper
For fear that a secret drips
Just pours straight from his mouth
Like a waterfall of deception
He'll lose his keeper title
Become a gossip of social misconception
The secret keepers mind will wander
Every time he lay in bed
"Worst case scenario,
They may end up dead."
There are many bottled notes
Quoting those 6 words
All in different cursive
Read by only mocking birds
No matter how he writes it
It's always in his mind
And at any remote moment
With his thoughts it's intertwined
Even he has tales
Everyone has sins to share
Every shoulder soaked with tears
Has stories made to scare
But the secret keeper has no secrets
Just a pond to tend
Bottled notes to care for
Lips sealed till the bitter end
Literature
Interview
When was the last time
That you cut?
Last night,
When all the doors were shut.
On what part of your body
Did you self-harm?
From the edge of my wrist
And all down my arm.
What did you use
To make the blood pour?
A pocketknife borrowed
From my dad's dresser drawer.
How many cuts
Did you make this time?
Ten long slashes
All in a line.
Was I the one
To bring this pain to your life?
It doesn't matter,
I picked up the knife.
How bad were these,
Speaking honestly?
I don't know,
They felt pretty darn good to me.
Literature
Ever Wanted?
Ever wanted to just curl up and die?
Turn off the lights?
Or kiss the world goodbye?
Literature
Facebook Stalker's Limerick
"The Facebook Stalker's Limerick"
I love that picture you just posted, with your new style of hair.
I love that outfit you just bought, I had to stop and stare.
And your new place, the sweet new bed,
That tasty-looking veggie spread,
It looks so good, that if I could, I would go live there.
And your new job, how do you like it? Will you stay there long?
If I stopped by and just said hi, is that coming on too strong?
What if I just sent some flowers,
No name attached, so spend the hours
Wondering who admires you, pondering all night long.
If you don't know, I'll give you hints, leave some subtle clues.
I'll tag myself, "like" a pic
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Comments1
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I...I don't get it.
But the flow and rythwm is really good.
But the flow and rythwm is really good.