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Literature Text
I remember the nurses forcing me to face the light
Always waiting each day, fading into midnight
I remember the white plague stealing away my breath
As I felt myself trying to escape from certain death
I remember the sky seemed to darken with each passing day
I longed to be able to walk again, far far away
I remember the holidays as they told me to be strong
I wanted to see the first snow, to taste it on my tongue
I remember wanting to wake from this living nightmare
Trying not to be caught up with each passing fear
I remember the letter I wrote before my last day
I hope that my love received the words I'd longed to say
Always waiting each day, fading into midnight
I remember the white plague stealing away my breath
As I felt myself trying to escape from certain death
I remember the sky seemed to darken with each passing day
I longed to be able to walk again, far far away
I remember the holidays as they told me to be strong
I wanted to see the first snow, to taste it on my tongue
I remember wanting to wake from this living nightmare
Trying not to be caught up with each passing fear
I remember the letter I wrote before my last day
I hope that my love received the words I'd longed to say
Literature
For the Fallen
The Fallen, give us their lives,
They give everything,
So that we might know peace
But, we dismiss them with ease,
Tell me, what would you do,
If you were one of these?
The Fallen...
The Fallen, they are everything,
That we should want to be
They give up their dreams,
They trade them for the screams,
Of people we will never know
And it goes to show,
Their faith is deeper,
Than you thought it would go...
Yes, the Fallen...
For the Fallen, I raise my hand,
I raise my voice up to the wind
I will hold them high above me,
And honor their memories
For the rest of my life,
I will pray for those left behind,
And for the Fallen...
The Fallen,
Literature
Answer Me
You stand there,
staring at me.
Do you even see me?
What are you looking at?
Something you hate?
Something you love?
Or are you merely
apathetic towards me?
Am I a non-entity?
Why can't you see me?
Can you see the truth?
Or is your gaze blind?
Do you realize that I love you?
That I would do anything for you?
Do you even care anymore?
Can you fill this hollow spot,
the one you leave in me?
Would you stop the madness?
Will you take all my pain?
When will I be as important to you,
as you are to me?
Don't just stand there....
Answer me, please?
Literature
Her Obsession
Radiant circle,
silvered glass.
Holds more than
just her reflection.
Each window,
each mirror,
each still pool of water,
draws her attention.
She peers intently,
smoothing silken hair,
touching full lips,
caressing high cheekbones.
A voice speaks,
she waves them off,
staring into the small mirror,
held firm within her hand.
She cannot let a minute go,
without her obsessions.
Everything must be perfect,
she must stay this way,
watching herself
as long as possible.
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This poem was inspired by 's creation [link]
This poem was about a patient of Waverly Sanatorium and the people who were treated for Tuberculosis. Millions of people died of this disease called the "White Death". A story that was cataloged about a patient who sent letters home from the place caught my heart. (I added the love though.. As I don't recall her writing to anyone but her sister).
I hope you enjoy it.
This poem was about a patient of Waverly Sanatorium and the people who were treated for Tuberculosis. Millions of people died of this disease called the "White Death". A story that was cataloged about a patient who sent letters home from the place caught my heart. (I added the love though.. As I don't recall her writing to anyone but her sister).
I hope you enjoy it.
© 2009 - 2024 Ferelwing
Comments38
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Here in Colorado there were a lot of sanatoriums. (Sanatoria?) Some of them became famous, like the one that became the National Jewish Hospital, but most of them are closed now, or have become other things. Not many of us even remember they existed, and few of us have had such an intimate glimpse inside one as you have.
Nice tight focus here. I've done a few rhyming things, so I know how tough it is unless you have a natural gift for it, which I don't. Well done!
Nice tight focus here. I've done a few rhyming things, so I know how tough it is unless you have a natural gift for it, which I don't. Well done!