1 - 8 of 8
-
-
Poetry is the revelation of a feeling that the poet believes to be interior and personal which the reader recognizes as his own.
-Salvatore Quasimodoby OutsideTheMirror 300 words, 7 comments, on Feb 8 11:37 PM 2006. In <200 lines, Inspirational, Other -
"Eeek!" Rebecca shouted. "Don't flick that stuff at me! I have things to do today!"
Glen continued using a wooden spoon to send lemon juice soaring through the air towards h -
I looked up at her through my dark brown hair. "What?"
"I'm Tina; what's your name?" the girl repeated. My stomach tightened with a tinge on resentment as I took in her appe -
-
"Maria?" I said to the storm, "Maria!?"
There was no reply to comfort me, to reassure we that I wasn't too late. "Maria, come on, I know you're there. Just come out."by OutsideTheMirror 200 words, 13 comments, on Jun 17 7:45 PM 2005. In <200 lines, Depression, Other -
I used to be beautiful. Beautiful. I used to be beautiful, really. Better than most, better than the fat nurse who watches me. Or am I fat watching the once-beautiful nurse wat
-
“Ow!” I cried.
“Watch where you’re going!” said a woman around twenty-five years old as she blew past me, clipping me with her grocery cart. I rolled my eyes, heading down tby OutsideTheMirror 600 words, on May 21 11:42 AM 2005. In <200 lines, Inspirational, Other, Spiritual
1 - 8 of 8
