(to accompany the post below)

Father was the one who told me.

"Coach of football team, 

perfectly healthy, 

dropped lifeless with stopped heart."

Father said nonchalantly,

as if was any                                                   other                                             news.

I nodded, continued conversation, but later,

I grieved.

Even though I didn’t know his name,

I grieved.

No clue what he looked like,

I still grieved.

Allie said 

my mind was b e a u t i f u l . 

People perish, every day.

But I managed to grieve for all of them. 

But question is, 

why wouldn’t you grieve for someone who 

ceases to exist?

Poetry Of Mine :3

Okay, so, in my English class, we're starting our poetry unit, which I'm very excited about. 

Image courtesy of Ptarmigan

I've always been in love with poetry (usually free verse and with emotion, though), and I've written some of my own. So, um, if it's okay with you guys, then I...shall post some. *nods* Mhm. Yep.


Speaking My Mind

When I’m alone, I think.

When I think, I start to form words.

But then, those words become bigger and bigger; more and more.

I begin to thread those words together, into long lines.

As if it was popcorn on a string during Christmas.

Thread and thread.

Those words slowly become sentences.

And then a final phrase.

A phrase of words that mean something.

Some people may call that poetry.

A work of art.

I simply call it

Speaking

My

Mind.

Secrets

Secrets

A simple word

I tell you a secret, and you tell me a secret

But the simplicity of that word

It does not even begin to explain the meaning

The consequences of breaking a promise

How much it can spread if it leaves your mouth

People today act without thinking

And when you don’t think

You may just slip out a secret

And then the dominos slowly fall

Knocking over each other, a chain reaction

And like that

You may just lose the one who told you that secret

The meaning of a secret

Is almost a promise

Something that shouldn’t be broken

A simple word with a massive meaning

Secrets

My Life

It’s funny

I live two lives

One at school

And one at home

A thief

And a beggar

Both looking for attention

One who steals the spotlight

And one who yearns to be in it

Funny indeed

My life

Sorry, ah, I guess it's a bit serious. For such a...not serious blog....But, yeah! I sometimes get a little sad and so I start to get creative in my head, and that stuff just...pops up. It's pretty cool, no? If you're looking for more poetry, and probably better poetry than mine, I found a site that's full of things all about poetry. Anyways, until next time, my lovelies~