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Lilly101's profile
The art of poetry is lost. There is more to a poem than rhyming words, but so many have forgotten...
- Member since
- Jul 10th, 2007
- Profile Viewed
- 4542 Times
- Last login:
- Nov 8th, 2009
About Me
Hi! A few basics about me! Likes: A good book, a hot cup of tea, anime and manga, sweets, the rain, nature, spring, spiders, animals, and punk music Dislikes: Escalators (they terrify me), cold medicine, slugs, math, peas, cooked carrots, feet on my chair, long tests, science projects____________Things that fasinate me: Alice in wonderland, ghosts, chaos, the passage of time (This all makes me some rather dark...lol But in truth I'm a pretty happy person!)______Oh and even though I'm a virgo I hate it. I'm am the messiest, unorginized, routine hating person I know. lol
Newest Creations
| Type | Title & Info | Average Rating |
|---|---|---|
| poems |
Fadding of innocence |
5.00 |
| poems |
Overcomeing Misery |
5.00 |
| poems |
Fair Weather Friends |
5.00 |
| polls |
Which is better cakes or pies? |
4.50 |
| poems |
Burnt Toast (missing part discovered!!!) |
4.75 |
Friends
Latest Journal Entry
October 20, 2009
Gloomy
I feel gloomy and can't for the life of me cheer up. Dark strom clouds sit forever on my shores and I do not fear their coming. It is as if I am almost eager for the strom to blow full force about me this calm and dismayed peace underlined with anxioty is what is killing me. A strom is a brew'n and Ikeep waiting for someone to go out and screech but everyone's silent as we dance around trying not to step on one another's toes. This is madness I tell you! Absolute madness and if someone doesn't throw the first punch soon i'll be the one to do it! Because for me happiness is a faraway esence forever in constant receed so long as those dark gloomy cloudy hang over me.However this state is not all bad my soul though grieving had a type a beauty about it write now. It's as though hardship and suffering are the refiners of the soul. I feel like I'm seeing the world in a different light and nt one that washes everything to a bleak grey but more everything is sharper crisper than before. Suddenly even the simplest of things holds a type of poetry I have never seen before. It odd but delightful but still not enough to lift this gloomy mood of mine. Perhaps I will be btter in a week or two or perhaps I too, like the migrating birds wait for spring to return.
