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Post by chipweter91 on Dec 17, 2004 13:56:03 GMT -5
Up ontop of a hill, there sits a quiet old house, with only one person in it, its as quiet as a mouse.
Day in, day out, she sits there, never anything to do, as she sits alone in her chair, recalling memories that are blue.
As she remembers her childhood, all those cold and sad memories, of her mother and father fighting, and all her miseries. As she watched her mother get beaten, as she sat and just stared, as she watched him, her father pull her up, as he dragged her up the stairs.
As she heard a piercing scream, from high up above, she heard two gunshots go off, she started to climb up.
She walked into the room, and there across the bed, were her mother and her father, with gunshots in their head.
It was in this house, many , many, many years ago, that her heart just stopped beating, and her sanity let go.
So she sits here in this cold dark house, her sanity cut loose, she drops the razor to the floor, and steps up to the noose.
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Post by timberwolf042002 on Dec 17, 2004 14:16:43 GMT -5
It's a dark poem, indeed lol. But it's an excelent poem, nontheless ;D I enjoyed reading it!
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Post by chipweter91 on Dec 17, 2004 14:26:57 GMT -5
thanks mike ;D Yes, tis' a very sad poem, but sometimes, its good to write sad things. Poetry is good for the soul. ;D
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Sabin
Pack Member
A lone wolk is either a survivor or a brute
Posts: 217
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Post by Sabin on Dec 17, 2004 20:52:21 GMT -5
Whoa, that IS dark. great though, i wish no one had to go through that.
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Post by Kenja on Dec 18, 2004 4:06:26 GMT -5
wow...brings back memories. Please write more chip. I'd love to see moe of your poems.
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Post by chipweter91 on Dec 18, 2004 6:49:06 GMT -5
thanks, guys ;D I sure will keep writing. This is fun!! ;D Yes, I too wish no one had to go through that, but sadly it happens everyday.
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