[x]

.:A New Dawn:.Another Night. Alone.
Alone since you left her there hanging.
Not with a rope, but with words.

You shattered her with reality. The truth.
And left her there to pick herself up.

Now hating that she cannot hate you.
A New Dawn Awakens her. Not you.
For you're gone.

.:Two Lost Souls:.If you wipe off the glamour on the camera lense
You will see how colours turn to gray
How the lamposts that light up this city
Put the misery of each soul on display

On this vast and lonely land
For miles we could walk,
Together. Not caring for the ticking of the clock
For we are just two lost souls
Wanting to be whole,
Again.

The mirror never tells a lie
Look in it and you will see
How shattered you are inside
how you look exactly like me

On this vast and lonely land
For miles we could walk,
Hand in hand.
Not caring for the ticking of the clock
For we are just two lost souls
Wanting to be whole,
Again.

O

.:The Rose Of Life:.Inside the glass
Lies the Rose of Life
Red as blood
Thorn as knife

Beautiful but fragile
Vivid but dying
Each petals fall
Slowly Unwinding

Alone and incased
Untouchable to all
There, lies the Rose of Life
waiting for it's last petal to fall

♥

.:Five Years:.Five Years.
She waited by the phone.
Waited for a call that never came.
Sometimes courageous enough to dial the number.
But not strong enough to let it ring.

Five Years.
She spent wondering why
Wondering how it all happened so fast.
How in the span of a day,
Family turn into strangers.

Five Years.
She's been trying to forget about.
Forget his very existence.
Impossible a task it's proven to be
No matter her persistence.

Five Years.
He was gone. No sign of life.
Yet now he speaks of love and tears.
Please do tell me, Why now after
Five Years?

.:Banofee:.She cannot help but dream of her at night &
Should she forget those reveries, daylight
Never fails to remind her how things could
Have been different; Should have been different. She
Let distance take place and the memory of
Her is something she cannot erase, nor let
Go.

.:Mon Petit Ami:.Voici un poème que j'ai du composer pour mon cours de français.
Le thème était "Problematique dans le monde"
Le poème est très trompeur jusqu'à la fin du texte.
Ce sont toutes des métaphores.

Mon Petit Ami

Et on se cache dans le parc
Car maman ni papa ne comprend notre amour
Notre désir de se completer
Et de s'avoir tout les jours

C'est interdit ils me disent
Nous sommes donc Romeo et Juliette
Il m'apportera la mort
Mais sans lui je suis incomplète

Nous allons nous marier
Lié par un baiser
Dans ce parc soudainement rempli
Nous allons fêter

Et nous fête

.:Silence Is Her Lullaby:.Silence is her Lullaby

Sleep -
That's all she ever does.
however, she never seems to get enough
As she lays in bed,
numb,
she stares up at the white ceiling,
blank like her stare and her thoughts.
Only until everything resurfaces.
The voices, the images,
her screams.
She struggles to reach over to her night table,
Trembling, she drops the little blue tablet on her tongue,
swallows,
and waits... for
Sleep.

.:In The Mirror:.In the mirror she is the copy of him
A cold hearted double faced asshole
A Fake. A Phony. A Liar.
With her nose high up in the air
Yet the thought of having the slightest resemblance
Makes her sick to her stomach
She refuses to accept that she is of him
Refuses to stoop that low
If he possess' a heart
It is to love himself and himself alone
Only a fool would believe
that he is capable of affection

And a fool she was.

.:Our Little Place:.Remember our little place?
where the landscape took our breath away
where the ocean waves invaded the shore
where the tulips bloomed in may

Remember the golden corn fields?
and the cool smooth breeze
the area where we spent all our time
and came home with mud at our knees

Remember those warm thunderstorms?
that shot down from above
the ones that made the sea go wild
the ones we used to love

Remember our favorite beach?
where the sand hugged our feet
where their was life everywhere
on land and in the sea

Remember where nature met its world?
and destruction didn't show its face
that was our secret hide-out
that was our little

.:Words Give Her Freedom:.She writes..... erases.
She types..... backspaces

Words don't come like they used to
Litterature is a language she once spoke fluently.
And now she has forgotten,
Forgotten the freedom and the beauty
In which she used to find at the tip of a pencil.
Forgotten the pride she acheived after each poem.
Words were like open doors, letting the pain free.
Now it's only bottled up, tangled in a huge knot.
It's not like she hasn't tried opening the bottle.
She has, many times in fact.
Failing to write a single word.
She starts with a blank page and gives up with a blank page.
Soon enough it will flow out like a waterfall
A

.:Dancing Alone:.She feels empty ever since the cassette
stopped playing her lullaby and made
dancing seem impossible when it used
to be effortless; effortless because it was
their dance, their
song, their story to write freely but
when he no longer wished to write
she tried to continue, until she
realized the pen contained no more ink, and
she had to face the fact that this
was where she had to end the
dancing, the music, the story ; for she was
alone in it.

.:Shut Up:.And She's done it again.
Said one word too much.
Fucked up. Just couldn't Shut Up.
And now he is Silent.
Angered and Silent.
He pulls her in,
Takes in her scent;
Relaxes, Smiles.
But She isn't smiling.
Looking up at Him, everything is clear:

She did it again.And it won't be the last time that she'll push Him to the edge.
One day it will no longer be okay.
One day her scent will no longer suffice.
She'll lose Him.
& Break.
Survival is all she's ever known.
Rid of what makes you weak,
Get rid of Him.

NightingaleThe nightingale is singing.
It sings all night long.
It doesn't need to sleep.
Neither do we.
We make love
and we get lost in its sweet melody.
Secret lovers...we are,
moaning in the dark.
Only the nightingale knows...
It shelters us with its song.

Save MeS uffer under this curse and brutality

A s you run, you leave me behind

V erses you helping me you left and lived your life

E excuses yo make for leaving me to die

M ay this live with you for the rest of your life

E scaping you did, while you heard my screams

Lifes gameI sit here and listen
But there's nothing to hear
I'm alone once again
Just lucky there's no tears
I miss how things were
But they will never be the same
And I'm beginning to think
That my life's just a game
I try to move forward
But I'm stuck in one place
People pass by me
But I can't match their pace
I'm losing my own game
And I'm falling behind
But my family and friends
Don't seem to mind
Can they see I'm stuck?
Do they know I'm here?
Maybe they only pretend to care
Every time I'm near
I am losing
But I'm not going to come in last
I am determined to move ahead
And let go of my past

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.:Her Soul Will Never Know True Happiness:.

by *MissLaurelle, Dec 15, 2011, 11:46:37 AM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

She was born, cursed to misery
For from misery she was born
Brought up into poverty
And to poverty she is sworn

A life of labor is her fate
And nothing in return
No matter how long she decides to wait
Not a penny she will earn

And every lover that she'll ever know
Will never truly love her
And every heartbreak she'll have to undergo.
Will have been something she tried to deter.

For she was born, cursed to misery
For from misery she was born
And everyday will pass by bitterly
And she'll be left forlorn.

.:Her Soul Will Never Know True Happiness:.by *MissLaurelle

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

This is definitely one of my most depressing/pessimistic poems.
What's even worst is it's all based off of truth. ):
No worries, it's not about me.

Copyright Laurelle

Critique by ~moto-jahk-fwah Dec 15, 2011, 9:33:56 PM

The cadence of the poem fits particularly well with the atmosphere of pessimism and capitulation, seeming to be slow and steady. The story, although short, is full enough to paint a bleak picture of the existence of our antagonist while being short enough on details to allow the reader to use their imaginations. I felt like occasionally the poem possibly rhymed for the sake of rhyming but I couldn't call that something I'd criticize since it still worked well. The Arc of the poem was also satisfyingly well opened and closed and I think it would sound good read aloud.

Over all I thought that, even though it was short, it was stylistically satisfying and emotionally compelling.

What do you think?

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~grg123wntn Oct 27, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

some of the best literature is inspired by misery or discusses it in some way. this is my favorite of the bunch. very nice work Laura.

*MissLaurelle Oct 28, 2012 Professional Artist

yes, sadly.
Thank you

*ErnestAbacus Mar 23, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

There have been many people in my life that have had an aura of doom around them. Not one that someone could just see, but an aura that appeared in your vision once you got to know them. You just knew there was no way out. For a person like me, it's an awful, maddening thing to see. I have little fragments of writings like this lying around, each one for a friend mired in slow, congealing doom.

Mine aren't this poetically concise, though.

~AndrewZheng Jan 19, 2012 Student General Artist

The poem is really deep.

*MissLaurelle Jan 20, 2012 Professional Artist

thank you!

~AndrewZheng Jan 21, 2012 Student General Artist

You're welcome.

!richarddgelina Jan 7, 2012 Hobbyist Photographer

So very sad. It's heartbreaking.

*MissLaurelle Jan 7, 2012 Professional Artist

thank you!

*strange Jan 2, 2012 Hobbyist Photographer

This is absolutely beautiful, but very sad

~AndrewZheng Dec 21, 2011 Student General Artist

The mood in this is splendid. Well written in my opinion.

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.:Her Soul Will Never Know True Happiness:.by *MissLaurelle

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