Love is bad for poetry.
You see it in the words,
how they don’t shape themselves anymore.
They don’t pour from your skin,
sweating lines of rhymes
and scanning incorrectly.
Muttering in hallways, walkways and pavements
doesn’t happen anymore.
They say you look happier.
You are.
With so much gained there must be some loss
and it is the heartfelt and heartstring tugging lines
which wrote themselves
from inside your chest that have gone missing.
I’d fill out a report,
but what would they look for?
Sleepless nights, bad nutrition and headphones?
You’d think happy people would have plenty to write about.
They do
There's something so depressing about only leaving the attic for 24 days a year. You would have thought that someone would have start RSPCT by now, but most trees who are in the open world don't understand. You hear some of them complain that they have shorter lives and that we should count ourselves lucky for living longer. However, when most of that life is spent next to boxes in a cold, dark attic, I'm not sure whether that's really a better quality of life at all.
This is when you consider that we trees could be used in other celebrations as well Hallowe'en, for instance, which has just passed. What about hanging small lanterns on
Why is it that if something can't speak, you humans assume that we can't think either? We're completely sentient, if anyone who has seen any of the Christmas films will understand. At the end of every snowy season, we all melt and evaporate, to come down as rain for the rest of the year and as snow again. Sometimes this process of evaporation is sped up by you apparently sentient humans. One year I lasted all of one day, after a particularly small child decided to make me underneath a lamp post. Her reasoning was so that I'd have enough light, but it just made me melt faster. That's just damn inconsiderate.
Do you not realise how long our mo
I woke up this morning to find that my antlers had, once again, been used as a sort of shelving rack. Just because our antlers have handy nodes on doesn't mean you can use them as hooks. I don't expect to wake up in the morning feeling like the inside of a cupboard, or worse, a jewellery box. I'm always acquiring things on my person some of the other guys at the office had saved up the noses from Comic Relief. Trust me, that joke gets old after a while. The next person who sings 'Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer' in my general vicinity is going to get a hoof in the teeth. We don't all have the same name, you know. Why on earth that song i
Christmas is supposed to be a magical time. I supposed it would be slightly more magical if it wasn't filled with 'traditions' and other such annoyances. At some point during school, when it was perfectly normal to invite the entire class to your party even though you didn't like most of them, it also became normal to send cards to everyone you've ever met.
It's become almost as ridiculous as adding people on Facebook the moment you ever clap eyes on them, despite the fact you'll never speak to them ever again. For relatives or friends who live very far away, then I can understand sending a card. To write in a card simply "Dear X, much love
It's reached that sad bit of November, where it's getting dark and everyone knows we're just holding out for Christmas. If you're anything like me, you end up walking home in the early hours in the fog, through which you might as well use sonar to navigate, because all a torch does is light up the aforementioned fog. You can't crunch through the snow yet, because there isn't any. You can just about draw on bus shelter windows, but it doesn't last long and you end up with very cold hands. So you shiver your way back home, hoping the fog will have gone by the morning so it doesn't look like a scene from Hound of the Baskervilles.
You wake up c
There's something so depressing about only leaving the attic for 24 days a year. You would have thought that someone would have start RSPCT by now, but most trees who are in the open world don't understand. You hear some of them complain that they have shorter lives and that we should count ourselves lucky for living longer. However, when most of that life is spent next to boxes in a cold, dark attic, I'm not sure whether that's really a better quality of life at all.
This is when you consider that we trees could be used in other celebrations as well Hallowe'en, for instance, which has just passed. What about hanging small lanterns on
Why is it that if something can't speak, you humans assume that we can't think either? We're completely sentient, if anyone who has seen any of the Christmas films will understand. At the end of every snowy season, we all melt and evaporate, to come down as rain for the rest of the year and as snow again. Sometimes this process of evaporation is sped up by you apparently sentient humans. One year I lasted all of one day, after a particularly small child decided to make me underneath a lamp post. Her reasoning was so that I'd have enough light, but it just made me melt faster. That's just damn inconsiderate.
Do you not realise how long our mo
I woke up this morning to find that my antlers had, once again, been used as a sort of shelving rack. Just because our antlers have handy nodes on doesn't mean you can use them as hooks. I don't expect to wake up in the morning feeling like the inside of a cupboard, or worse, a jewellery box. I'm always acquiring things on my person some of the other guys at the office had saved up the noses from Comic Relief. Trust me, that joke gets old after a while. The next person who sings 'Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer' in my general vicinity is going to get a hoof in the teeth. We don't all have the same name, you know. Why on earth that song i
Christmas is supposed to be a magical time. I supposed it would be slightly more magical if it wasn't filled with 'traditions' and other such annoyances. At some point during school, when it was perfectly normal to invite the entire class to your party even though you didn't like most of them, it also became normal to send cards to everyone you've ever met.
It's become almost as ridiculous as adding people on Facebook the moment you ever clap eyes on them, despite the fact you'll never speak to them ever again. For relatives or friends who live very far away, then I can understand sending a card. To write in a card simply "Dear X, much love
It's reached that sad bit of November, where it's getting dark and everyone knows we're just holding out for Christmas. If you're anything like me, you end up walking home in the early hours in the fog, through which you might as well use sonar to navigate, because all a torch does is light up the aforementioned fog. You can't crunch through the snow yet, because there isn't any. You can just about draw on bus shelter windows, but it doesn't last long and you end up with very cold hands. So you shiver your way back home, hoping the fog will have gone by the morning so it doesn't look like a scene from Hound of the Baskervilles.
You wake up c
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I know you're already in the DD group but I also suggested you to a GM because I really just love that poem so much!! So hopefully your chances are doubled.
thank you for the s It means a loot to me take care & have fun ----------- ---Sia - Breathe Me--- "Be my friend Hold me, wrap me up Unfold me I am small,and needy Warm me up And breathe me" [link]