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Literature Text
It was never her hair
It was never her smile
It was never the burning
She left of desire
It was the way that she painted
My world with her mood
It was all in how she spoke
In the way that she moved
It was never her smile
It was never the burning
She left of desire
It was the way that she painted
My world with her mood
It was all in how she spoke
In the way that she moved
Literature
Relatable
“A pen is to me as a beak is to a hen.”
- J.R.R Tolkien
Literature
Confusion At It's Best
Confusion At It's Best
I look in the sky on those late nights and see a crimson red sky wrapped around the building. Around six am after making my last patrol run through the building, I go into the bathroom to fix my hair so I look good when I am there to greet everyone as they come in.
I look into the mirror and what do I see?
A shadow lurking about behind me.
I look about but to my surprise, guess what I see.
No one is here with me.
I turn back to the mirror, what do I see?
I see yellow eyes in the mirror staring back at me.
I blink, turn some more lights, blink for my eyes to adjust and guess what I see.
The eyes of an animal run
Literature
A Dishonest Misunderstanding
"It's here, it's here!" I shouted excitedly, running back to the living room with my parcel clutched tightly in my hands to search frantically for a pair of scissors. My parents had promised me a smartphone for my birthday if I was good, after years of wanting one, and years of being the only kid without one, and I'd been as good as gold all year. Better than I'd ever been. My birthday had come and gone two weeks ago with nothing, but they'd promised it was in the mail, and sure enough here was a phone-sized parcel with my name on it!
Finding the scissors, I tore into the packaging with fervour and swiftly uncovered...a fisher-price smartpho
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You'll be my pendulum, you'll keep me going.
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