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Time& ChangeA Poem by Antonio SolerTime & Change. The true constant to which we must adapt to Change is not time, but merely a substance that relies on time. Both invisible .. |
Black Mirror Concepts/Ideas.A Story by DdraperBeing a HUGE fan of Black Mirror, and a writer who dreams of writing for the show, I thought I would share some of my ideas for potential episodes. |
To Bathe in PurpleA Poem by LaineyI actually just wrote this about a bath bomb, but it takes on multiple meanings |
Subway PeopleA Poem by Heiligearly Sunday mornings in subway make you think |
1:14am thoughtsA Poem by Yam Zenthought /THôt/ noun -an idea or opinion produced by thinking or occurring suddenly in the mind. |
You Wanted MoreA Poem by AshleyDeyPoetryWritten after a boyfriend told me they loved me way too soon and wondering if I, myself, am actually capable of love. |
What a FeelingA Poem by AshleyDeyPoetryA poem about starting a healthy relationship with myself. |
The YearnA Poem by Antonio SolerWith eyes settled and such gaze cravedHands caressed with tender words laidOne deliberation and she become my demiurge.No words nor psychical graspYet.. |
Save me from myselfA Poem by XIV.IWhat am i suppose to do? |
Take My LoveA Poem by AshleyDeyPoetryWalking into love with someone so unlikely you wonder if they love you too. |
RelaxA Poem by AshleyDeyPoetryBreathe easy and inspiration will come. |
Shades of BrownA Poem by AshleyDeyPoetryBoring, brown eyes. |
Mysteries and Miracles of the UniverseA Poem by AshleyDeyPoetryRealizing there are amazing people out there. |
[Looking Out The Window into The Drab]A Poem by felionessThinking back when ... |
MonochromeA Poem by Rudie RockFrozen hands reaching toward the fire.Not a care about how it will burn.The static noise only growing louder.Perhaps it is my turn.Up, up.Crackling, c.. |
PressureA Poem by taanyaJust an exerpt of writing - not particularly in the form of a poem nor a story |
God's responsible for my sarcasm.A Story by Liam CallaghanSarcastic Lives Club |
The Dark BoxA Poem by AjlaNo fear.Forlorn.The flashing screenNo gleam,only the small screen.Just us,in this frigid,tragic,dingy box.With a feathered cushion,plunk my head on it.. |