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Literature Text
She's an autumn leaf,
Caught on the wind,
Floating on wild
Thermals on which birds fly,
But she's easily broken.
And rapidly losing colour,
Getting duller,
As she slowly reaches the floor.
And he's jolted awake,
To the sound of bleeping
And sterilised cotton offending his nose,
He can see the bruising spreading,
And the paleness of her usually caramel skin,
Her eyes are unclosed,
But her hand's releasing pressure,
And the doctors and nurses fuss around her,
Getting more and more stressed,
A deadly electricity filling the air,
His eyes refusing to leave hers,
Sky blue and Moss green.
Locked, lost, but never alone.
(her's slowly faded, and the world slowly stopped,)
Leaving a broken boy, in an empty room.
Surrounded by I'm sorry,
Words hanging heavy in stagnant air.
Moss green, and alone.
Caught on the wind,
Floating on wild
Thermals on which birds fly,
But she's easily broken.
And rapidly losing colour,
Getting duller,
As she slowly reaches the floor.
And he's jolted awake,
To the sound of bleeping
And sterilised cotton offending his nose,
He can see the bruising spreading,
And the paleness of her usually caramel skin,
Her eyes are unclosed,
But her hand's releasing pressure,
And the doctors and nurses fuss around her,
Getting more and more stressed,
A deadly electricity filling the air,
His eyes refusing to leave hers,
Sky blue and Moss green.
Locked, lost, but never alone.
(her's slowly faded, and the world slowly stopped,)
Leaving a broken boy, in an empty room.
Surrounded by I'm sorry,
Words hanging heavy in stagnant air.
Moss green, and alone.
Literature
Igbok
To the girl who's "okay"
With the run-away father
Of the baby she's hiding
With goodwill and shame,
You're not alone.
To the boy who's "okay"
With the bumps and the names
And the scars on his wrist
That still won't go away,
You're not alone.
To the girl who's "okay"
With despising herself
Because she's knows she's not strong enough
To starve anymore,
You're not alone.
To the boy who's "okay"
As the voices grow louder
Because soon he'll give in to them
Without feeli
Literature
What Matters
Forget the worries, forget the fears,
Wipe away your old hurt's tears.
Laugh out loud, dance around your room,
Picture a different bride and groom.
Spend some time with your best friends,
Pick up the pieces, make amends.
Scream to your favorite song,
Not caring if the notes are wrong.
Live your live, reject the strife.
Pick up the pen, put down the knife.
Smell a rose, bounce on your toes.
Play with your hair, slide down the stairs.
Love the way you are, name you own star.
Accept your faults, turn somersaults.
These are what matter,
No matter how crazy or scattered.
Literature
In The Grips Of December Breath
The December breath of the world was cold, but his hands were hot against her skin. Around them fingers pointed of their own accord, and girlish giggles floated over the pair's hearing. The hour was late, the clock's hand was broken, and she kissed him with an unknown but ice-cold passion. It was only his pleasure to return the gesture, to move to lips against hers, to allow his hands to creep up under her top. In her ear, which was delicate with the petals of youth, he whispered recycled verse. All the while she clung onto him, as though the very fingers of night could snatch him away from her.
Short of breath, the girl drew away, just
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A masterpiece. Truly outstanding work.