http://slow.writerscafe.org/Poemfingers The original writings of author Fay en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775979512 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Still born http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Poemfingers/1500190/ There was a time when I loved myselfAnd becauseShe was meAnd I was herI loved herThe way we put our hands on our hips when we approached new peopleThe way we took our flaws and laughed them dry we created magic in our diaries and our faces were solemn stones And no one can get ahol.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Poemfingers/1500185/ The media was a way to bring the world that spun around us under a tiled roof top and condensed into a 16 by 12 box. Sports was on channel eight, news in the mornings, and entertainment on at every hour. It acted like glue amongst families, sticking them together better then a tub of Elm.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Poemfingers/1500182/ One day I'll paint me a homeWe're the walls are redThe floors are blueAnd the ceiling is yellowPrimary colors that in the uknown future it will collide and create every existing color on the rainbowI'll fill the nooks and cracks with baby blue safetyA calming sea that'll guard the troub.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Poemfingers/1495934/ I have seen the days of painI have seen the Days of slaughterDays of thievery and arsenistAnd fathers raping daughtersThere were days where the world went darkOr the lights just wouldn't go outDays of hunger and thirstOf cannibalism and droughtMy mind sifts through histroryWere th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Poemfingers/1495933/ An organ Today I stumbled head first into biliogy class.i presumed it'll be n ordinary Day it was quite ordinary until my biology teacher .and I quote ,said" there is an organ between your eyes and it is called the brains"And that is where ordinary was haulted at a dead end.An organ is a ca.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Poemfingers/1495930/ MediaThe world is trapped in a claustrophobic suffocating box of confusion. I'll be honest, being that I have only existed for sixteen years I don't know much about life. But I do no that the media.The wicked witch from the west disguised as Dorothy.The evil st.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Poemfingers/1495929/ snow pellets in the sky rocking her frail bones in an iced motionher mouth clings to the wind,becasue she knows itll be her last unpoisioned air to fill her chapped lungs.she mouths the beast that no fleshed ear can hear, adn no skinned skeleton can act upon.a hopeless frozen help.shes kn.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Poemfingers/1495927/