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Literature Text
Roses are red
Violets are blue
If I had one wish
That would ever come true
I'd wish for a world
Where people understand
To think before they speak
To stop making brands
To stop gaining pleasure
From others' pain
To be able to see
That there's nothing to gain
From pressing someone
To the point of no return
From causing a lonely person's
Heart to burn
Just stop making fun
And stop causing hate
Just STOP
Tempting fate.
And start loving someone
Not for how they look
When it comes to people's hearts
You didn't write the book
Love someone
Whether they're gay or straight
Whether they're jocks or nerds
No matter what weight
Money doesn't matter
And neither does race
Religious or not
Be the first to embrace
Anyone and everyone
No matter how far
No matter your opinion
No matter who they are
Maybe if that happened,
If we all pitched right in,
I might believe in Valentine's day again.
Violets are blue
If I had one wish
That would ever come true
I'd wish for a world
Where people understand
To think before they speak
To stop making brands
To stop gaining pleasure
From others' pain
To be able to see
That there's nothing to gain
From pressing someone
To the point of no return
From causing a lonely person's
Heart to burn
Just stop making fun
And stop causing hate
Just STOP
Tempting fate.
And start loving someone
Not for how they look
When it comes to people's hearts
You didn't write the book
Love someone
Whether they're gay or straight
Whether they're jocks or nerds
No matter what weight
Money doesn't matter
And neither does race
Religious or not
Be the first to embrace
Anyone and everyone
No matter how far
No matter your opinion
No matter who they are
Maybe if that happened,
If we all pitched right in,
I might believe in Valentine's day again.
Literature
Blood Brothers
Brookie always holds my hand when we cross the street. She's never given a reason for it, she just does it. It's become this unspoken rule with us that whenever we cross the street together, she slips her hand in mine and I lace my fingers through hers and we walk hand-in-hand until we reach the other side and she drops her hand and we both wipe our palms on our jeans. Brookie's a little scared of crossing the street. Her poppa died in a car crash when we were six. He was a pedestrian. She's never gotten over it.
Brookie is my best friend going on sixteen years now, which is pretty impressive considering we're both sixteen. We don't h
Literature
Nervous Movement
You're a dime a dozen in a sea of billions.
Individuality has no significance in numbers so vast.
And while this fact may make looking forward hard
we can't keep living in the past.
You're a nervous movement in a freeze frame scene.
Steady hands won't help hold up such a fragile act.
And while you take your time keeping character
you fake what you can't take back.
With nothing more than a thought we form our actions
and this is where we extinguish the lie they tried to invent.
The lie that we painted our lives without passion
well conclusions are useless with no attempt to commence.
You're a song I can't name stuck in my head.
I've li
Literature
Blood From a Far Off Place
Quiver full of bullet tipped arrows.
The bow of aluminum my dad made in high school.
I step into the sunlight on the south side of the house.
I'm 12.
I don't know why I pull the bowstring
back to my eye, aim upward, and loose.
Straight above my head.
And the voice said,
"You are a most common creature,
though of a peculiar people."
The Sun glints off the arrow's shaft.
I shade my eyes and wonder how long
before the arrow hits me. How long before
I step aside. How long to decipher a riddle
from a lipless voice.
Now I'm 16.
These days, I fire two arrows above my head.
Wondering. Hoping.
Bring back that voice.
One arrow. Two seconds la
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A Valentine's Day card I wrote to myself.
© 2013 - 2024 Inheri7or
Comments7
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Thank you so much, everyone! I'm really glad you all enjoyed it, and I'm surprised at the overwhelming response it's received. Now if it could just come true. . .