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Not my fault
The following is my entry for the Snafu Senryu challenge. Click the link below to enter your poem in it too. Oh, and good luck to all!
he Heart of the Forest: A Tale of Bravery and Destiny
In the heart of an ancient kingdom, nestled between the gentle embrace of rolling hills and the mysterious depths of majestic forests, there lived a young orphan named Elin. She had spent her childhood under the care of a kind but aging widow, whose tales of a far-off castle adorned with shimmering jewels and guarded by a legendary dragon ignited a spark of curiosity and wonder within Elin's soul.
A Stolen Summer
In the heart of Whoville, where summer blossomed with vibrant hues, a mischievous figure stirred in his lair. The Grinch, renowned for stealing Christmas, craved a new challenge: to snatch the essence of summer itself.
Earth has been kidnapped
dear our mother, to the ends of this world we have explored one day i hope my faith in humanity will be restored whilst we say this world was a gift from the lord
Kiesha’s DiaryPublished 7 months ago in PoetsThe Weaver's Enchantment: A Tale of Threads and Destiny
Once upon a time, in a small village nestled deep within the heart of a sprawling forest, there lived an old weaver named Elara. Secluded within the confines of her humble cottage, she spent her days diligently crafting the most intricate and delicate tapestries the villagers had ever seen. Her creations were not mere collections of threads but rather living narratives that spoke of a world beyond the confines of their remote village.
Writing Class
Having Fun In Writers class The poem forms and others. How many students, amass? Will there be any brothers or sisters writing with me?
Denise E LindquistPublished 7 months ago in PoetsVoice
The day I found my ‘Voice.’ The day my words became a declaration of influence. No more would I settle for mediocrity; what does that mean? Blending in, living the way I only knew, thinking that to live with Love is to sacrifice.
Kristine MilewskiPublished 7 months ago in PoetsThe Pain in Silence
The rain clattered down on the tin roof, rat-a-tat-tat. Like a deafening silence, echoing the void between them. The kettle boiled. But not like a modern kettle bubbling up with subtle satisfaction. This old, handmade cast iron kettle, once made with love, sat heavily on the gas. Visible cracks mark the surface through years of misuse and neglect. A symbol of their relationship, but unlike their love, the kettle rattled to a noisy climax. The pent-up energy bursts out of the well-formed spout with a piercing shrill that breaks the deathly silence.
Simon GeorgePublished 7 months ago in Fiction