SheShe has the most beautiful eyes Eyes so beautiful they sparkle in the light She has the most amazing smile A smile so radiant it beams for miles She has the most loving heart A heart so loving that love spreads within her presence She has the most fruitful of characters A character so fruitful that it is hard not to smile when she’s nearShe
My mum always used to say That She had a name I always used to say
That She may have a name But She doesn’t always have a name This time though; She does have a name
She has a name so soft soundi
AnswersBlood. Crimson coloured and, now, dry. That was the first thing I saw as I stepped onto the threshold of what was, my now dead, parents house. I didn’t know very much about what had happened. All I knew was that they had been, quite brutally, murdered. I kept replaying the telephone call over and over in my mind. The one from the police telling me they were dead. Every person’s worst nightmare – subconsciously, I mean. I just didn’t think it would ever happen to me. The woman on the phone told me that things would be explaineAnswers
my rose.You are like a rose that I keep wateringmy rose.
over and over so you will live
I love you with all of my heart I care for you with all of my strength
If you are sad, I am your kleenex If you are weak, I am your chair
If you are mad, I am your calmer
If you are lost, I will find you
If you are scared, I am your protector
If you are mad, I am there to calm you down
If you need to talk, I am there to listen
i... love.. you...
Rules of Great Literature1. I am a writer. It doesn’t matter what I write (unless it’s genre fiction, in that case I am a deluded fool that needs to be re-educated) or even the quality of said writings; by virtue of being in the company of other writers, I am a writer. Do not dare tell me otherwise. After all, writer’s egos are notoriously fragile (comes from wallowing in all that angst) and we mustn’t discourage the next Great Author of our time from gaining greater perspective of human nature by hanging around with others who are equally disconnected with reality (except when writing poetry about their ex).Rules of Great Literature
2. All Great
3am The telephone never stops ringing. Usually, it's a fight to grab the receiver and make a phonecall before it starts ringing incessantly, causing everyone living under this roof to leap up and rush into the hall, desperate to answer it, hoping that it's for them. Of course, it's always for them, never for me.3am
But today, there's no rush. No irritating ringing, no rush into the hall. No one. I'm used to being home alone. Let's face it, my sister has her army of friends, and is at parties every other day of the week. She'll probably stagger home at some point in the morning, claiming that she
Jack is back
Well, Well...Well
Lazy
so spare the "*RETCH*" and "*PUKE*" comments for someone who cares people.
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I've now moved to =shimmer-dragon
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