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Poetry: My last Goodbye |
Posted by: Smirnoff_Ice_Princes on Sunday, December 02, 2001 - 01:35 PM |
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wake me up after i die,
so i can say my last goodbyes.
please dont cry,
i am not worth your tears.
i was too weak to face my fears.
you shouldnt feel guilt or torment by wondering "what if" because you couldnt see through the illusion i made for you.
its not your fault.
i didnt want help.
too ashamed to admit that i could only find pleasure in pain.
ugly scars all over my arms,
from burning away my unseen pains and fears.
temporary escape until the phsyical pain would slowly disapear.
then the hated painful memories and fears would reapear.
wake me up after i die,
so i can ease all your pain and fears.
no longer do i feel any pain.
there is so much more i want to say.
but these pills are starting to take me away.
my vision is getting dimmer and the room starts to spin.
fear slowly creeps into my heart.
i dont want to die alone!
but it is too late,
i give up and leave the rest to fate.
as darkness slowly invades my soul,
taking my last breath.
i gasp my last request:
wake me up after i die,
so i can say im sorry and beg forgiveness from the ones i love.
before i say my last goodbye....
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Stories: The tale of the old wizard. |
Posted by: paulw on Monday, September 10, 2001 - 11:43 PM |
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PaulW.
Once .... once upon a time there was a big old castle it had been a proud castle but now it was all overgrown with weed and some of the walls had fallen down in that castle lived an old wizard he was a wize old wizard and even though he could have restored the castle he refrained from doing so because he liked the castle better this way there was a village nearby that castle, and sometimes the people of village came to visit him they brought him fresh milk, bread and butter, and asked for his advice on farming and crops which he always gave.....
Note: Pictures of the Story telling at Marshouse can be found in the Gallery. |
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Stories: A fairy tale, from a Story Telling Event in Marshouse. |
Posted by: paulw on Monday, September 10, 2001 - 08:34 PM |
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PaulW.:
once upon a time there was this small girl she had ran away from home cause of a cruel mother and now was alone in the world so she walked the woods all by herself, a lil sack with food over her shoulder midday came and it grew very hot so she sat next to woodpath to eat some from the eating and the heat, she fell asleep....
Note: Pictures from the story night can ben found in the gallery here. |
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Art: The first artists. |
Posted by: PaulW on Saturday, August 11, 2001 - 10:36 PM |
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At the end of the last big ice age some of our ancestors lived in caves, nearby the receding glaciers, in the south of France.
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