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  • Poetry » Narrative
    Road Trip
    5

    Road Trip Road out before me, Hand out the window, Sitting beside you, I’m not the driver, Thoughts on other things, Not this long stretch of flattened land. Just came ...


    Sabine - Thu Jan 27, 2005 2:49 am

  • Poetry » Dramatic
    My Own Little World
    9

    Sometimes I hate These feelings inside It feels like Something is burning Coming from Nowhere I know But maybe I can stop it but how I wish these Feelings would ...

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    britlitfantw - Thu Jan 27, 2005 2:33 am

  • 4

    I walk at night. Two people walk with me, not quite friends as much as kindred spirits. We hurry through streetlights and linger in the darkness between as we revel ...

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    scissorquiz - Wed Jan 26, 2005 9:56 pm

  • Poetry » Dramatic
    couldn't care less
    6

    i don't know about you, but i couldn't care less about sweating at night in archaic houses with a waterbug problem. we don't need air conditioning, just watch, we'll show ...

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    scissorquiz - Wed Jan 26, 2005 9:54 pm

  • Short Story » General
    Going Solo
    10

    It’s a sad commentary when you’re approached by a seven year old at the skating rink asking you, “You don’t have any friends, do you?” I felt like strangling her. ...


    Chevy - Wed Jan 26, 2005 6:27 am

  • Poetry » Dramatic
    That Word
    12

    Die. Why is that word Only one little word Such a beautiful song? Why do I relish in its Sound? Taste? Caress? The shiver in the air As it leaves ...


    Skye - Wed Jan 26, 2005 2:14 am

  • Poetry » Dramatic
    Life-a rhyming poem
    10

    Life By Misty Lynn Ellingburg Life-seems like Somewhere to be without being As though inside a portrait Watching without seeing As though locked inside myself Touching without feeling Something lacking ...


    Misty - Wed Jan 26, 2005 1:35 am

  • Script » General
    Short Play: Suffering
    7

    Its raining, the rain drops are falling like crystals, Evna and Luke are sitting on the wall near their school Evna: The rain may fall like the tears on our ...


    Emma - Tue Jan 25, 2005 8:11 pm

  • Lyrics » General
    What the Hey!
    5

    This is my first song that i wrote on a postcard. Please crit so as i can learn from it Staring up at the blue sky, Nothing on of my ...


    MasterChief - Tue Jan 25, 2005 7:34 pm

  • Short Story » Action / Adventure
    A life unwritten
    12

    A Life Unwritten My name’s Anna, I normally hung around with my two best mates – Janet and Suzie. I had decided to use my life to save other people ...


    Emma - Tue Jan 25, 2005 6:02 pm

  • Poetry » Dramatic
    The Circle
    6

    Death checks her watch with hollow eyes (blackened pits) things having been buried inside (bones). Green becomes black, day grows old. Fire feathers flutter to the ground. Ashes enfold. O ...


    Liz - Tue Jan 25, 2005 5:42 am

  • 8

    Sure, it's lyric poetry, why not? ----- People oft grow together slowly, As trees reach across an old stone wall, Entangling roots and crossing slender branches Till one can barely ...


    Galatea - Mon Jan 24, 2005 8:21 am

  • Poetry » Dramatic
    Possession
    7

    Possession personally, I know I've never seen a bigger silence than the one that stretches out between us (deeper than a universe)– but did you really think that wrapping yourself ...


    bubblewrapped - Mon Jan 24, 2005 3:03 am

  • Novel / Chapter » Romantic
    Untitled BUT Part 1
    6

    Homework, friends, teachers, family; isn’t there any time for myself anymore? I guess there isn’t with all the chaos in my life having a little “quality time” with myself isn’t ...

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    Elizabeth - Mon Jan 24, 2005 2:31 am

  • Poetry » Other
    2 Poems
    8

    BEAUTIFUL Petrified by a gaze which I can not even begin to imagine I never knew something so beautiful existed I want to hold onto it with my life but ...

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    Elizabeth - Mon Jan 24, 2005 2:13 am


"For a short space of time I remained at the window watching the pallid lightnings that played above Mont Blanc and listening to the rushing of the Arve, which pursued its noise way beneath. The same lulling sounds acted as a lullaby to my too keen sensations; when I placed my head upon my pillow, sleep crept over me; I felt it as it came and blessed the giver of oblivion."
— Mary Shelley, Frankenstein