- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
Every once in a while on a rare occasion I feel the urge to write a poem. I have a small collection, and I thought maybe I'd share them here. If you enjoy them, I'd love to hear it, but be warned, I rarely write of happy things~
I shall add more at a later date I'm sure. I hope you enjoyed~
Tell me if you would
"I'm eager for your kiss."
Or would rather shatter me
In Night's uneasy bliss?
Tell me what you will
I'm eager for your lies
Could you maybe be a demon
wearing gentleman's guise?
Tell me what you want
I beg you to destroy me
Everything I am
If only you would set it free
Tell me if you hurt
I've grown quite tired of this
I've decided rather, to shatter you
With Night's so deadly kiss...
"I'm eager for your kiss."
Or would rather shatter me
In Night's uneasy bliss?
Tell me what you will
I'm eager for your lies
Could you maybe be a demon
wearing gentleman's guise?
Tell me what you want
I beg you to destroy me
Everything I am
If only you would set it free
Tell me if you hurt
I've grown quite tired of this
I've decided rather, to shatter you
With Night's so deadly kiss...
His suit smelled of cloves
His skin, like Versace
As we twirled on the checkered floor
He gripped my hand, and my hip, harshly
The whole world could've been watching
and his yellow eyes would still only watch me
they say the greatest sin you can commit
is loving someone too much
The notion made me laugh, softly
But he didn't love me at all
So with a lack of remorse, I watched him fall
The machine flatlined and his dear wife cried
It took the rest of them a moment to register
that he had died.
I watched with my red eyes and a grin
As the soul of a gentleman
sank into my eternal fire for his sin.
His skin, like Versace
As we twirled on the checkered floor
He gripped my hand, and my hip, harshly
The whole world could've been watching
and his yellow eyes would still only watch me
they say the greatest sin you can commit
is loving someone too much
The notion made me laugh, softly
But he didn't love me at all
So with a lack of remorse, I watched him fall
The machine flatlined and his dear wife cried
It took the rest of them a moment to register
that he had died.
I watched with my red eyes and a grin
As the soul of a gentleman
sank into my eternal fire for his sin.
This next one isn't the best, I wrote it for a school project in high-school.
However, it's based on a roleplay I and a friend at the time had done with our personal OCs
and for some reason it's still one of my favorites.
This poem is a copy change of the red hat lady's poem. "When I Am Old."
"When I Am A Memory"
When I am a memory, I shall wear that which I did not.
With an expression that never was and doesn't suit me.
I shall spend my time doing the things you loved,
And the things we agreed never to speak of, and say we've no money for anything else.
I shall sit on your bed when I am bored;
Gobbled up by the stress of our lives and the melancholy of your heart.
And run my hand through your silken black hair
then make up for the stress I've caused you.
I shall go out in my nightgown in the fires of hell,
pick deadly nightshade on the plutonian shore,
and learn to mourn.
You can wear your jacket,
Grow more irritable,
Eat all the food I ever prepared for you at a go or nothing at all,
Sort bones and knives, or silverware and things in the fridge.
But now we must have reality.
Pay the price, not in the contract we made,
set a good example for the others.
Have friends to comfort you and read the funny papers.
But, maybe you should practice a little now...
So, people who know you are not too shocked and surprised,
When suddenly I am dead,
and you start to wear black.
However, it's based on a roleplay I and a friend at the time had done with our personal OCs
and for some reason it's still one of my favorites.
This poem is a copy change of the red hat lady's poem. "When I Am Old."
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat that doesn't go, and doesn't suit me,
And I shall spend my pension
on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals,
and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I am tired,
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells,
And run my stick along the public railings,
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in other people's gardens,
And learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat,
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go,
Or only bread and pickle for a week,
And hoard pens and pencils and beer mats
and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry,
And pay our rent and not swear in the street,
And set a good example for the children.
We will have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practise a little now?
So people who know me
are not too shocked and surprised,
When suddenly I am old
and start to wear purple!
With a red hat that doesn't go, and doesn't suit me,
And I shall spend my pension
on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals,
and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I am tired,
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells,
And run my stick along the public railings,
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in other people's gardens,
And learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat,
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go,
Or only bread and pickle for a week,
And hoard pens and pencils and beer mats
and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry,
And pay our rent and not swear in the street,
And set a good example for the children.
We will have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practise a little now?
So people who know me
are not too shocked and surprised,
When suddenly I am old
and start to wear purple!
"When I Am A Memory"
When I am a memory, I shall wear that which I did not.
With an expression that never was and doesn't suit me.
I shall spend my time doing the things you loved,
And the things we agreed never to speak of, and say we've no money for anything else.
I shall sit on your bed when I am bored;
Gobbled up by the stress of our lives and the melancholy of your heart.
And run my hand through your silken black hair
then make up for the stress I've caused you.
I shall go out in my nightgown in the fires of hell,
pick deadly nightshade on the plutonian shore,
and learn to mourn.
You can wear your jacket,
Grow more irritable,
Eat all the food I ever prepared for you at a go or nothing at all,
Sort bones and knives, or silverware and things in the fridge.
But now we must have reality.
Pay the price, not in the contract we made,
set a good example for the others.
Have friends to comfort you and read the funny papers.
But, maybe you should practice a little now...
So, people who know you are not too shocked and surprised,
When suddenly I am dead,
and you start to wear black.
I sit across the table from where you once existed, so plainly
Your aria was sweet until the end, where it soured, but I have yet to mourn
Still as I try, the god forsaken phone screams it's shrill demand for attention
They say if you lay with dogs that you'll get fleas,
but all I do is live, and I still feel the parasites gnawing at my bones
I can't exist in this world peacefully, especially without you here
without you the phone screams it's chorus of the damned relentlessly
But you are gone, and the phone is all my life is about since then
I sip my sangria and wallow in self pity, the 667th glass today
I do this to myself, but then again you put the knife between your own ribs
The world around you just pushed it in
I stand to answer the phone pouring my glass into a pot of spider lilies
Fitting, to make a dark situation even worse
As I answer the phone all the stresses and worry yell at once
I look to where you once existed so plainly, with a tear in my eye
"This is how it all started... Isn't it?"
Your aria was sweet until the end, where it soured, but I have yet to mourn
Still as I try, the god forsaken phone screams it's shrill demand for attention
They say if you lay with dogs that you'll get fleas,
but all I do is live, and I still feel the parasites gnawing at my bones
I can't exist in this world peacefully, especially without you here
without you the phone screams it's chorus of the damned relentlessly
But you are gone, and the phone is all my life is about since then
I sip my sangria and wallow in self pity, the 667th glass today
I do this to myself, but then again you put the knife between your own ribs
The world around you just pushed it in
I stand to answer the phone pouring my glass into a pot of spider lilies
Fitting, to make a dark situation even worse
As I answer the phone all the stresses and worry yell at once
I look to where you once existed so plainly, with a tear in my eye
"This is how it all started... Isn't it?"
I shall add more at a later date I'm sure. I hope you enjoyed~
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