agonia english v3 |
Agonia.Net | Policy | Mission | Contact | Participate | ||||
Article Communities Contest Essay Multimedia Personals Poetry Press Prose _QUOTE Screenplay Special | ||||||
|
||||||
agonia Recommended Reading
■ I know what you're thinking, father
Romanian Spell-Checker Contact |
- - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2003-11-11 | |
I sit alone, think at the fate of man.
Nobody here, just me and my little pen. We play alone at the light of the lamp On one sheet of paper, with a blue stamp. Silence around us, but we fear not For we have each other and we can't rot. My pen is all I might ever need It creates my universe, it lets me feed. The world outside is shattered of crimes I don't want that, all I want are my rhymes. Love is something I do not seek yet, I am too young, not ready I bet. So here am I, with my only friend A small pen, that does not bend, But one who I can trust and know best, Just look, it isn't like all the rest! It does not talk, yet it says all It does not breathe, but it will not fall, Like everything around, man or a beast, All they live is a short and dirty feast. So leave me alone! Go, run away! But don't forget, from you path do not stray, For I will create and I will destroy; Me and my pen, we have the power of Troy!
|
||||||||
Home of Literature, Poetry and Culture. Write and enjoy articles, essays, prose, classic poetry and contests. | |||||||||
Reproduction of any materials without our permission is strictly prohibited.
Copyright 1999-2003. Agonia.Net
E-mail | Privacy and publication policy