|My own little hurricane
Author: Venustas iaceo PM
Every time I try and think now-a-days (whether it be writer's block or not) the pattern's always the same. I can't think, so here's my own little poem about my thought process...Rated: Fiction K - English - Angst - Words: 243 - Reviews: 1 - Published: 03-10-05 - id: 1855796
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It pours like rain...
Falling, falling, falling
All this drama,
Wrapped up in a hurricane
Violently its spinning,
'Til it all comes pouring down
Wake up and smell the roses
But remember the thorns
'Cause they aren't going away
Sure, pull, prick, and snap them
But they just keep coming back
'Cause everything wants revenge
Revenge can come psychologically
Screwin' you over mentally
Or physically, with brutallity
But nothings gonna clear away the scars
Scars, bruises, mental or seen
Always present, always pouring
Pouring down like rain
In the form of a hurricane
Whirling 'round and 'round your brain
Will you break and go insane?
What's insane mean anymore anyways?
It's thrown around so loosely now
Everything loses it's forming meaning with time
Just like every civilization seems to fall
Crash and burn, crash and burn
And what's the point anymore?
Self-expression only turns to "proof"
Shoved in your face,
A way to make you feel the rain, again
You gotta stand tall, stand proud,
Take the blows of the wind,
Wind from people's gapping mouths
Take the stinging of the cold rain,
That feeling of hitting rock bottom,
And remember that sun'll come up later
And then you'll get a rainbow
There's a rainbow after every storm
Each and every reoccuring tempest
That rockets everything you know,
You want to know,
and everything you thrive on.
Live on, my friends, live on!