Scorched by the Sun
She flamed my heart for years
Then the tears did come.
About the Creator
Thomas BW Barron
I am a 36 year old Writer who also treads the boards, writes songs and manages the daily difficulties and joys of being Half Werewolf.
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More stories from Thomas BW Barron and writers in Poets and other communities.
Turning Pages of Life
Life’s like a book — some parts are good, others not so much. Still, keep turning the pages; you might find the best chapter next. If someone hurts you, choose to forgive or just let it be, but never change who you are for them.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharing7 days ago in Poets
Point Nemo
Extinct have gone the novices of time. It's not the damned that have been erased but the rustic and the lame. Trapped beneath camouflage and outdated routines. They carved their misfortunes in bone but I have carved nothing, Still waiting for my turn at evolution. The misguided burned their hands with the fire they created. Discovering stolen weapons and reshaped maps. Surviving by doing the most mediocre and mundane. The divided society within me must be restored. You wouldn't allow me to eat at the table because you occupied all the seats. A civil war has erupted inside of me and the terrorist you became has ridiculed me long enough. I was the caveman drawing scriptures on the brand new walls while you claimed to be the new messiah. You drove me to the edge of the world and left me there on the side of the unpaved road, alone. I prepared cobblestones into fortified statues and citadels. I created epochs and enduring eras. I harvested the best that resided within me but you always doubted me. You projected false appearances in order to rise above. Everything I did was never enough. You conquered distant lands and exotic societies but you couldn't tame your own ignorance. I'm not the historic ape kept in a gilded cage for your own amusement. I am the next stage of natural selection while you are in rapid decline. Your words are unknown now because language has progressed faster than your own tongue. This massive shift is the iceberg launching itself into the salty ocean. You shrink and withdraw while I migrate and advance. Go and retreat while you still can. I will not be lessened by the likes of you. Diminish your own idleness and I will succeed where you already failed. My work is not yet done. I am a continuous web of developing perfection. You couldn't make me go extinct. This word doesn't apply to me anymore. My limbs have evolved into wings and you will watch as they soar
By Anna Torres6 days ago in Poets
Create Your Personal Vocal Homepage
I'm not a Vocal Newbie (not that there's anything wrong with that), and I'm technologically comfortable. But, I'm also perhaps too comfortable. I think I know, even if I know that I don't know what I don't know, I still think I know more that I do know.
By Judey Kalchik 2 days ago in Writers
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