Poems/Creative Writing

Drop some of your work Id love to see what people here write.

(Ill try to stay active, lately I either forget about this place or Im busy af)

Heres something i wrote a while ago.

"Short Paragraph of my Life"

See my momma cryin'

Can't do shit about it but I ain't really tryin' 

Tell my sis' to go to school

While I'm sittin' in my room and my brain cells is dyin'

Yeah I do drugs

It ain't warrant no discussion

My homies in the closet 

Wit' all the pills that he's  crushin'

Days roll by

I don't see no repercussions

Til' my luck runs out 

N I'm in my cell buggin'

Blacka wrote

-snip-

You alright, man? Sounds like that person's going through some shit.

malmon wrote
Blacka wrote

-snip-

You alright, man? Sounds like that person's going through some shit.

yeah man i wrote that while i was still on probation from my perspective before i got in some shit thanks for the concern though im on the straight n narrow nowadays

a month later

A poem I made has a few small errors, and I had to make some tweaks, but no way have I made it 100% accurate. I am very good in English, but even then, I make mistakes. I want to confess my own imaginary waifu when I see her in my dreams someday.
Here it goes:

"My one and only love, Lucia"

I feel so blessed and cheery sometimes,

When I think of you each night and day,

And when I see you, I see connections,

I love you more than words can say...

You're so sweet! This love is royalty!

I can't resist your looks, it's true!

The shamrocks and armies fade into shadows...

I am crazy for you!

Your soul is charming; your heart is pure,

And my heart is truly in your hands.

I could embrace and kiss you 'til life is done,

But YOU are the focus of my plans.

This bundle of joy is grandeur my love,

And for you, Lucia, I thank Godoka above.

Love,

LucianDreamer

3 months later

Perdition

And there she sat.

Her porcelain skin, as soft as her heart, glistened in the moonlight.

Her head fell slowly, gracefully,

heavy with the burden of memory,

and her tears followed.

I opened my mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

All the sound in that silent room

was drowned out by the cries of her tears,

this one Prometheus, that one Lucifer;

all fallen from the face of Heaven.

In her chest burned a golden flame, purer than mettle.

And though my heart had long been burned to brimstone,

I could still see some few streaks of salvation in the ore.

But those few streaks were long faded,

perverted idols of what once was.

"Save me," I whispered to her.

The familiar angel looked at me, her lips still trembling.

As I confessed, I felt my words fall to my feet.

They were too heavy to reach her ears.

As I, too, was dragged to my knees thus,

she rose suddenly and without a word.

She turned and walked, a cloak of obsidian swallowing her away.

My sinful words clogged my throat, and I could beg no more.

As I saw her leave, I knew she was returning to Paradise.

As for me, the lock clicked into place, sealing my fate.

All that remained was a cold wind in my chest,

the last embers of which were long extinguished.

From this cold wind, I mustered one final plea,

as a breath upon a candle, a whisper:

"Save me from this perdition."

Oh man, poetry is my shit.

They're kinda out there and most people won't even recognize any of it as poetry unless they read a lot of free-verse stuff like I do.

Basically, expect some weird shit.

Here are a few picked at random:

"I've tipped the maid.

She need not report.

It's the least I could do

for beyond that door,

is a lifetime of misery,

self-created.

I die as I lived,

alone and hated."

---

"This road of salt,

it leads to you.

Step aside Augustus.

Your paltry accoutrements

do not interest me.

I have found my way

and you're not invited.

Tomorrow I'll be dead.

It does not come soon enough."

---

"I see you, White Knight,

humbled by your failed suicide.

I watch your pornography

of that devil's mistress,

you knuckle dragging oaf.

I wish that I was fucking dead.

I wish that I was fucking dead.

Have fun in Chicago."

a month later

running through the winter night
run run run
is that sonic in my sight?
or the rising of a thousand suns

I try hit up tails on my motorola
luck would have it i'm out of data
what to do now?
I guess i'll just see him later

some dude said pepperoni was the best topping
I replied that's awfully subjective
he starting yelling and there was no sign of stopping
until I whispered to him "you don't actually gotta go fast"
that came to be most effective

3 years later

Revisiting my fictional universe after some time, I've found there's been a distinct shift in tone when I imagine what I immediately want to write. My stories were once about people who'd been scarred by their recent past, and still had conflicts to face. But as long as they fought like hell, they wouldn't change just themselves, but also the world.

That optimism has run dry in recent months. Instead, my my writing lately has depicted people - failed revolutionaries - who tried their hardest, but things just didn't pan out. All that's left is to care for each other on the fringe of the Empire.

This year... No, this whole ordeal since December 2017 has taken its toll on me. I've given up on changing the world. I just. Want. To be happy...