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| 02 Feb 2012 10:08 PM |
I am keeping these so that way they are here, and I don't have to keep finding them through my MANY documents on my computer. So....Here is one, more to come:
Drip, Drip, blood pouring down my face. Drip, Drip, tears falling from my eyes, Drip, Drip, fluid coming from my spine. Crunch, Crunch, My bones breaking, Crunch, Crunch, my teeth chattering, Crunch, Crunch, My skull snapping. Splash, Splash, Stepping in my own blood, Splash, Splash, falling in my puddle.
~Crabby 2/2/12 |
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| 02 Feb 2012 10:09 PM |
| As creepypasta-ish as that was (And i dun like Creepypasta) That was actually pretty good! |
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| 02 Feb 2012 10:09 PM |
Puppet Master:
The yellow skeleton, Mold pouring on it's bones, The tiny amount of flesh, On it's skull, The large puppet strings, Holding it's joints, Rattling of the bones, Moving the strings, Controlling each movement, Of the lifeless body.
~Crabby 2/2/12 |
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| 02 Feb 2012 10:12 PM |
(THANK YOU!)
The glint of the knife, That shines in the moon, The soft blood, Dripping into the pool, The rippling of black water, As the bodies move, Across the water, The disfigured head, It's eyes looking through your soul, Hungry to live again, The small stars, Shooting across the sky, Lighting up the dead night.
~Crabby 2/2/12 |
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| 02 Feb 2012 10:13 PM |
Captive:
Silver chains, Holding it down, In the black cell, Rattling bones, With flesh on skin, Little white worms, Crawling through it's eyes, Screaming out blood, Until it cries, It's blood red eyes.
~Crabby 2/2/12
(Yes, these are horrible. Dx) |
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| 02 Feb 2012 10:15 PM |
Vampire Knight:
Pale skin, Shining in the moon, Red eyes, Reflecting on clear water, A black cloak, Swirling around her, A long sword, Shining white against the water, Fangs bared, Dripping venom, Onto her porcelain skin, Blood falling, From her blade, Dyeing the water.
~Crabby 2/2/12 |
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TheNman1
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| Joined: 16 Dec 2010 |
| Total Posts: 2372 |
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| 02 Feb 2012 10:21 PM |
I walked upstairs hearing the noises, already knowing what was happening. She had whispered it to me the day before, and I was a fool to not stop her, telling her it was okay, that it was her choice what to do. I opened up the knife and looked at the blood on the blade, from her cuts on her skin, and the cuts on others. I focus on the noises now as I am only steps away from the door. The sounds are regretting, denying, running out of life. I open up the door and see her intense stare, her eyes telling me no, but her noises telling me yes. I quickly cut the rope and help her up, then she takes the knife and cuts my arm. I run away from her, knowing I shouldn't leave her alone, but I do. I tell myself another time, it is her dicision, not mine.
(Very creepy, eh?) |
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| 02 Feb 2012 10:23 PM |
Dragon's Eye:
The scales, Colored of rainbows, Wrapping around the slitted eye, The yellow glow, Off it's iris, Liquid Swirling, Scales shining, As the Dragon's eye.
~Crabby 2/2/12 |
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TheNman1
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| Joined: 16 Dec 2010 |
| Total Posts: 2372 |
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| 02 Feb 2012 10:25 PM |
| Hope ya didn't mind me putting that creepy poem in. I just thought it was poems for everyone to share. |
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| 02 Feb 2012 10:26 PM |
| I don't, doesn't matter to me. |
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| 02 Feb 2012 10:28 PM |
Dragon Rider:
Black hair flowing behind, The saddle sitting, On it's large spine, Scaled wings, Flapping through, As the moisture of the clouds, Turn blue, The pale green scales, Glimmering in the light, Pure white teeth, Blinding who passes by, The tail swishing, Whipping the sky.
~Crabby 2/2/12 |
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catzrcute
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| Joined: 18 Sep 2008 |
| Total Posts: 22858 |
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| 02 Feb 2012 10:35 PM |
Listen:
Listen, Don't you hear? The sounds of screaming, The groans of zombies, The running of fleeing feet? Listen again, Don't you hear? The roaring of a chainsaw, The rolling of headless bodies, The screaming of mother's as their babies die infront of them? Listen more! Don't you hear? The sheathing of knives, The shooting of guns, Children's tears? Listen once more! Don't you hear? The galloping of stampeding hooves, As their riders stab sticks through heads, The murderous sounds of death?
~Crabby 2/2/12 |
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| 02 Feb 2012 10:38 PM |
Grim Reaper:
My silver orb, Calls my name, My black cloak, Tells my name, My grey sword, Speaks my name, My molding skull, Yells my name, My green-glowing scythe, Screams my name, For I am the Grim Reaper, The ruler of death. |
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| 02 Feb 2012 11:33 PM |
Mirror, mirror on the wall I do not care for who the fairest is of all I only wish that I may, perchance Find a a way so that I might enhance Humanity's salvation, for I'm in a gloom About our obvious coming, impending doom I want to know the meaning of life Is it to love one another or to wallow in strife? I cry for the world with its lifeblood dripping Until the cows come home, but the cows are tipping So, mirror, I ask, and I plead you to tell Am I on the stairway to Heaven or in a living Hell?
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Inkswell
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| Joined: 11 Dec 2011 |
| Total Posts: 11238 |
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| 02 Feb 2012 11:59 PM |
| Ahem, I really dont like dark poems.. ( Even though I made a few myself.. ) But I will hand it to you, You've got potential. |
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TheNman1
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| Joined: 16 Dec 2010 |
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| 03 Feb 2012 07:10 AM |
My 5th Grade Assignment
All I can hear is the sounds of pencils and people, trying to make poems like me, while sitting in the benches in the small woods by our school. Suddenly, another sound comes into range, a simple bird chirping in the trees. I walk towards the sound, getting away from the others, and gaining the ability to hear more birds as I go. I look up in the trees and finally see them all, talking, singing, simply chirping. I am sitting here now, writing my poem, the birds making their music around me. |
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TheNman1
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| Joined: 16 Dec 2010 |
| Total Posts: 2372 |
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| 03 Feb 2012 09:35 PM |
| Trying to think of more pems to put on here... |
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| 03 Feb 2012 09:48 PM |
Well the only peoms I'm really able to make are random ones I make up for fun...
Roses are red Violets are blue And you my dear friend Smell like poo. |
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TheNman1
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| Joined: 16 Dec 2010 |
| Total Posts: 2372 |
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| 03 Feb 2012 09:58 PM |
Well, try putting some thought and organization into it. Look at my first poem (and the one I am doing here) and you'll see what I mean.
Empty Church, oh Empty Church, filled with memories of prayer and death, the motionless bodies in the backyard. A few creaks from the floorboards are heard as I walk in, and I feel as if something else is here, gasping at my unexpected arrival. I walk towards the preachers stand, look at the dusty bible, read a few of the words. I turn the page and see scribbles written in red, as if something wanted to write something, but didn't know how. The piano starts playing slow, soft notes. I head towards the door and hear a voice say no, a strange force pushing me back onto the floor. The doors shut and lock, leaving me and the thing alone. I escaped in the morning, but no one believes me when I say what happened in the night. I don't think they ever will.
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| 03 Feb 2012 10:02 PM |
Friendship?:
It's not the same, Talking to a stone, Not being able to hear your voice, Your sweet, Soothing voice. Why did you leave? Why did you hurt me like this? I have no one to talk to, No one to cry. I miss you, My friend. My tears splashing on your grave, I hope you can hear me. I miss you! I didn't want you to leave! I need you! And so this knife, The silver knife I hold, Will bring me to you.
~Crabby 2/3/12 |
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| 03 Feb 2012 10:07 PM |
It wasn't me:
I didn't kill you, I did not slice your head. I did not bloody the concrete, However, This knife did. I did not end your life, I did not make you not be able to go, Home to your family. It wasn't me. It was the knife. I was not the one, Who sliced off your limbs. I was not the one, Who took out your intestines, It was this knife. The bloody knife I hold, Coated in your blood. I am not the murderer! Don't blame me, It wasn't me! |
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TheNman1
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| Joined: 16 Dec 2010 |
| Total Posts: 2372 |
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| 04 Feb 2012 08:22 AM |
The Noise of Sirens:
The noise of sirens fill the night, I look outside to see a fright. A body lays on the ground, and only now has it been found; across my yard, near their garage, near the letter I left in the cage. The noise of sirens fill the night, the rope on the ceiling is knotted tight. I look to see if they guess, who caused the big bloody mess. They walk towards my house, and then I know, the next noise I hear is a pow. The noise of sirens fill the night, the cops search my room and find a fright.
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Pruz
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| Joined: 11 Nov 2009 |
| Total Posts: 31781 |
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| 04 Feb 2012 09:21 AM |
| Yeah what's with that? Not complaining, of course, but still.... |
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