http://slow.writerscafe.org/lordpotatollama The original writings of author Prototato en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776082116 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 This is a writing project I got for my senior year; I apologize for being so dead for so long. I look in my alerts, and I have 553 read requests... Hopefully you guys enjoy this. It was last-minute http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lordpotatollama/2107453/ Seven billion plus some people on EarthTens of millions in my country alone.Thousands of dating sites, hundreds of thousands of local placesTo meet candidatesFor the game of loveI was created to destroyI am the single person making the world population oddI have no match, no interest.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lordpotatollama/1994949/ A spoken word about life http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lordpotatollama/1961247/ Trying to see what you guys think of my character idea for an MHA/BnHA OC-based story. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lordpotatollama/1952815/ Love.I still remember when I called those touches “cooties”When all that mattered was playing superheroes and loving those PB&J sandwichesWhich you never did figure out how your mother made them so damn wellAnd those few television shows that made you believe anything was possibl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lordpotatollama/1951407/ I have to thank Lynaelee in this poem. I never have before, and it's about DAMN time she gets recognized for being amazing. Thank you, Lyn. You've helped me beyond words. And so this is for you. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lordpotatollama/1945055/ I'm broken, shatteredBeaten, tatteredWeary, beatenPoorly treatedTears staining the earth I tread, Graceless, I'm fed up to the brinkof insanityWith these pointless words.The thoughts like a tidal waveStarving me of all I needThe emotions swirling faster than Dorothy's tornadoMind pulsingHeart s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lordpotatollama/1941130/ A look at the life of a me. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lordpotatollama/1930312/ Realization, deterioration, and improvement. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lordpotatollama/1908985/ A personal experience. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lordpotatollama/1906752/ I sat there for nearly five hours (according to Darcy) talking to this stranger without so much of a clue on what she was saying. She described how she had gotten here; running from some genetic company; seemed more like a mafia to me. Apparently, she could keep rolling her mind off of her tongue wi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lordpotatollama/1904677/ I truly don't belong hereNobody can hold me dearStarted when I was only 4 yearsContinued to this very time hereEverywhere, I pull up the rearHide from every single peerAll run from my personality sheerFar too many find me to be queerAnd seemingly invoking nothing but fearI inevitab.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lordpotatollama/1902630/ Some say myths to be just thatFictional ideas on a pageWhile I disagree, straight-up and flatThey have connections to this ageOne such is Icarus, whose glorious flightDespite his father's wordsGuides him into eternal nightTrying to better the birdsSome may relate to Icarus well.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lordpotatollama/1901637/ Kat and I walked into the kitchen, and I sort of lingered while she made us some food.And by ‘make’, I mean she practically threw a bowl of dry Frosted Flakes at me with an orange thrown in the middle of it.“You’re lucky I like dry cereal.” She turned around with he.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lordpotatollama/1896138/ For half of the night, I merely lay beneath the blankets, heat gathering underneath. 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I was excited to finally find someone who understood me, if even just a little bit. My backpack felt lighter that day. My shoes felt like fabric instead of concrete. My mind was beginning to defog itself, and I was beginning to he.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lordpotatollama/1879536/ A fated encounter. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lordpotatollama/1874706/ A morning in the life of Dasken. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/lordpotatollama/1873505/ A lone silhouette meandered through an iron door, struggling to maintain balance. Upon reaching a short corridor, it clutched its side tightly, fluid seeping from its side, almost torrentially. 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