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Literature Text
Reject
She cannot take life or this dream of death anymore
Nor could a sane observer accept her torment
As always, she sits in her apartment alone
Feeling the world expecting her to try even harder
Punished for the sins of those who would spit on her soul
Women are always the first to be blamed
The bruises on her face tell a story beyond words
The sun will go down soon, the last vestige of light
Alone again, next to a silent telephone
Tears dripping onto her dress
She cannot take life or this dream of death anymore
Nor could a sane observer accept her torment
As always, she sits in her apartment alone
Feeling the world expecting her to try even harder
Punished for the sins of those who would spit on her soul
Women are always the first to be blamed
The bruises on her face tell a story beyond words
The sun will go down soon, the last vestige of light
Alone again, next to a silent telephone
Tears dripping onto her dress
Literature
March of Time
March of Time
Time marches to its own sound.
Tick tock, thump thump, click boom.
In a fraction of a second everything you know and love can be gone.
Life ends and life begins but time pays no mind.
It just keeps marching to its own beat.
Tick tock, thump thump, click boom.
Literature
Circle of the Elements: Training of the Mind
At lunch, Josh ate alone. Auranna was nowhere to be seen, and Eric appeared not to have come back yet. Wondering about what Eric was doing, Josh continued to ponder on what missions Auranna and Eric spoke about before. If Auranna was training them for combat, they must be pretty dangerous. Josh still questioned his competence to do whatever Auranna may ask him to do, but something about Auranna assured him to trust her. After lunch, Josh made his way to the library, ascending the spiral stairs to the second floor. The library was empty, with Auranna not being there either. Josh sat down at one of the tables and decided to wait. After 10 minutes with Auranna not showing up, Josh got up to look around the library. Auranna had a very diverse collection, with subjects on art, mathematics, science, and history. He browsed the shelves until he found a book with a sun on the spine to the side of a corner bookshelf. He reached to take it out but found it was stuck. He pulled harder, thinking
Literature
In the Mirror
She cracks the door just an inch, peering through the crack into the darkness of the room beyond. Lightning flashes through the window, illuminating vague figures standing still. Fingers twitching, mind racing, heart pounding, she pushes through the door and reaches to grab the nearest figure. The white fabric slips silently off as she touches it, revealing the chair underneath. A wry grin finds its way onto her face and she moves through the room. Dust bunnies run from her falling footsteps, jumping quickly then slowly drifting back to the floor. She slides the cloth from several pieces, a table, a couch, more chairs, a trunk, a vanity.
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Wow, sorry if this one's too dark. Though for all our talk of being a "progressive" society women are too often treated like dirt.
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This is morbid and I love it. I can feel the despair in her heart, the will to accept that she is not worth it. I have fallen into a pit of despair like this before and it makes me think of how I felt like there was no one there for me. I like how it just stops. You have to make up your own mind of how she handled herself. It brought tears to my eyes. Though I have never been physically abused like this woman, I know how it feels to feel completely unworthy and in her situation I can picture what the ending would ome to. Thank you for posting this. Words can't describe how much this poem speaks to me.