Author Topic: Flames' poetry and other assorted writing  (Read 980 times)

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Offline flames

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Flames' poetry and other assorted writing
« on: August 26, 2011, 07:58:00 PM »
Come gather round my people, for a tale to be told,
Of how once upon a time, in days of old:
I was a regular on these boards,
And my writings were broad but it suddenly ceased,
My poetry now deceased...
Yet I'll strive for a comeback,
Another chapter in the sack,
Of this tale of mine to tell...
Brought back to you from hell.

Translation: I used to be a pretty common site on the Writing and Literature board a long time ago, especially when it came to poetry. I've been struggling for a good year or two now to return my spark for writing but each attempt has fallen rather flat. So this marks my latest attempt, starting with simple poetry and anything else I may write to help me get into the swing of things.


You'd have to be mad...
They call me crazy and mad,
Oh how they pity this lad,
But through all the papers they sign,
They seem to miss the bottom line:

You'd have to be mad to live in this world,
A place where despair is constantly unfurled,
These people they work and live the same old day,
Repeating this cycle with no outrage to say.

They don't seem to remember that once upon a time,
We lived for pleasure and fun, not for the cash register chime!
They're stuck and they're bored and they're as grey as the rainy sky,
How do they bear it, don't they wish they could die?

There's paperwork on my madness, it lies on the desk,
And I'll quite proudly agree with it, I'll confess.
It's a load of my mind, I can do what I please,
Nobody asks me why I'm playing with my keys.

When you're mad you've got an excuse for having some fun,
For living your day with a smile like the sun.
They shake their heads and pity me, the fools,
For it is they who should be pitied, for they are but tools.

Tools for others in control of their fate,
Empty shells with too much on their plate.
Beaten and broken by the society they live in,
Is it any wonder that so many give in?

Call me mad if you must, ignore my claims,
But here is one fact that I'll loudly proclaim:
Most of you think you're living when in fact,
You're not living at all, it's nought but an act!

And so you should see,
How I got my epiphany:
With this place the way it is I'd rather be mad,
Then have to do deal with the monotone existence they wish upon this lad!


Impossible!?
Call it impossible, I'll call you a liar.
Clearly good sir, your heart has no fire.
Do you think we got this far by saying it couldn't be done?
We're improving all the time and yet things have just begun!

Look to our past and skim through our history,
A very interesting pattern is what you should see.
We've done the impossible time and time again,
If you try to stop progress you're just another pain.

I say that we'll touch the untouchable, once more!
I say that we'll break the unbreakable, to the floor!
We say that we'll climb any mountain, to the skies!
We say that we'll reveal, all the lies!
You said that it couldn't be done!
You're merely missing out on the fun!
The farewell was premature. My definite stay is not definite. The constants are variable. The greeting was too late.

 

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