Jun 11
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People of The Future

Jun 11
Supersonisoph's picture

People of The Future

Jun 11
poem 0 comments challenge: Key
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Stop clutching me
I am not an object
not just some keys you can toss around
you lose me
leave me 
forget me
and when I am found
used for you
to start some random car
you have probably just
forgotten about
Mar 22
poem 0 comments challenge: Love
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Two hearts,
one song,
filling the air with warmth and meaning,
melodies float,
notes blend to create music,
beat steady,
passion growing,
spreading like the wings of a bird taking flight,
giving a new purpose,
a new depth,
to happiness
Mar 22
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Not a spring green

Not a spring green
not an rich emerald jade but
garbage green 
a foul taste in my mouth
as the vines entangle me
evil tendrils squirming their way into my heart
into my mind until all I can see is this green
dirty grass green
hopeless green

Aug 31
fiction 0 comments challenge: Go
Supersonisoph's picture

My Unexpected Ride

I usually walk to school. Walking helps me think. But today, a church is being rebuilt due to a recent fire. My route is interrupted by the team of workers standing in the road telling everyone the route is closed off. I look at my watch. Tic-tic-tic. The amount of time left before school is running out. I choose the other, longer way, but the road is closed off in that direction too! I call my school and explain that I will be late because I have a "last minute doctor's appointment". The person on the other end of the line must believe my ruse because he lets my go immediately, and hangs up. I call my mom at work, but she is busy, so I call my dad. He works at a helicopter company. I'm not saying I want a helicopter to come pick me up, but it WOULD be cool. A helicopter flies overhead. I sigh. My dad said he would be right there, and it is starting to rain, so I am starting to get really annoyed. The helicopter circles. The wind and rain are picking up now. Tic-tic-tic.
May 19
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I AM. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I am. . . someone who cares about you, whoever or where ever you are,
I am. . . someone who is afraid, just like you are,
I am. . . someone who will fight for you, whatever you are,
I am. . . someone who is creative,
someone who is strong,
I will show my persistence to help anything that's wrong,
and if you don't like the real, new, me,
remember, I am just the girl that I want to be.
May 01
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My New Life

I peek out from behind my comforting neck pillow in the car. This is it. My mother says. Our new home. My older sister, Brit (her name is actually Britney, but she insists we call her "Brit"), mumbles something I can't make out in the backseat of our beatup, rusty Subaru. The veiw is of a bright neon green house. When the car stops, Brit reluctantly grabs her large emount of huge bags and starts to carry them towards the front door. I slowly carry my few bags up the old, creaking steps to our new home. I can tell that Brit and I are holding back tears and wishing for our friends back in Tenessee to call soon. My father shows us to our new room. Not our rooms but our room. This is turning out to be a terrible start to our new life in Louisiana. I am restless throughout the night. Around 2 A.M. I decide to take a walk. I turn in the warm summer air to spot a pitiful spotted kitten.
May 01
poem 2 comments challenge: Feet
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Best Sleepover Ever

We swing our newly painted toes,
we are out of words,
but never out of thoughts,
this is a quiet moment
to just be,
to be silent,
just you and me
at peace with the world,
when the time comes to speak again,
we do,
we speak warm comforting words
until the universe decides
that it is time to go inside
to my warm fireplace,
and my mother tells us to
"go to bed"
we don't though.
The world is telling us to whisper,
to recite our deepest thoughts.
We dream about the best sleepover ever.
Mar 28
fiction 0 comments challenge: Ghost
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The Dog

Once upon a time there was a man who was afraid of the everything. His dog slept slept under his bed, and when he felt scared, he reached his hand under the bed so that the dog could lick his hand. This comforted him. One night, as he was lying in bed, the man heard a faint drip drip. He reached his hand under the bed, and the dog licked it. After he had slept for a while, the noise woke him again. He reached his hand under the bed. The dog licked it. After he had slept for a short spell, the noise aroused him. This time, he went to investigate. The sound was coming from the bathroom. As the man peeked inside the bathroom door, he was shocked to see his dog dead in the sink, with blood from his body dripping down the drain. On the mirror, spelled out in blood, were the words humans can lick too.