Codecrakr
My mother never hugged me.
- 63
- Posts
- 20
- Years
- Age 36
- With your mother
- Seen Oct 17, 2005
Twisted Thoughts
This is a sort of collection of random thoughts that may or may not expand over time. Anyway, here goes...
~~~~
Love is...
I was up at about three in the morning and started writing down some random thoughts I had. Those random thoughts turned into this poem thing about love, which is odd, because normally I don't write about this kind of stuff.
Love is the
wonderful, terrible
suicide of the heart
that you see coming,
but let happen.
Love is the
beautiful light
at the end of the tunnel...
that turns out to be the freight
train that runs over your
soul.
And as you lie there, on the
broken, winding tracks of love
and wonder if anything
is worth making an effort,
you decide to get up,
brush heartbreak off your jacket,
and chase the train.
********
The Prank
I don't know where this came from, but it turned out rather interesting. Kind of a cynical type of outlook, a bit darker than the preceding bit.
It's so difficult to be, you know,
A terrible horrid thing.
As though you were some puppet
Twisted and noosed into something
And then displayed for everyone
To ridicule and mock
As some malevolent entity
Wrenches their strings
For his and your enjoyment.
Existance is a dreadfully nasty joke to pull on a man.
~~~~
Not too bad for a bunch of rather random thoughts, if I do say so myself (and I do). So, what do you think?
This is a sort of collection of random thoughts that may or may not expand over time. Anyway, here goes...
~~~~
Love is...
I was up at about three in the morning and started writing down some random thoughts I had. Those random thoughts turned into this poem thing about love, which is odd, because normally I don't write about this kind of stuff.
Love is the
wonderful, terrible
suicide of the heart
that you see coming,
but let happen.
Love is the
beautiful light
at the end of the tunnel...
that turns out to be the freight
train that runs over your
soul.
And as you lie there, on the
broken, winding tracks of love
and wonder if anything
is worth making an effort,
you decide to get up,
brush heartbreak off your jacket,
and chase the train.
********
The Prank
I don't know where this came from, but it turned out rather interesting. Kind of a cynical type of outlook, a bit darker than the preceding bit.
It's so difficult to be, you know,
A terrible horrid thing.
As though you were some puppet
Twisted and noosed into something
And then displayed for everyone
To ridicule and mock
As some malevolent entity
Wrenches their strings
For his and your enjoyment.
Existance is a dreadfully nasty joke to pull on a man.
~~~~
Not too bad for a bunch of rather random thoughts, if I do say so myself (and I do). So, what do you think?
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