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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Thoughts In The Shadowsdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: SinCeer05
    ASL Info:    21mVA
    Elite Ratio:    3.27 - 242/279/168
    Words: 218
    Class/Type: Poetry/Serious
    Total Views: 149
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1410



    Description:
       Just another fictional write..something to think about...

    Feedback or criticism is appreciated.


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsThoughts In The Shadowsdots
    -------------------------------------------


    I Kill To Survive, My Bloods Fahrenheit To Boil, The Thrill Keeps Me Alive
    I’m Forced To Sin From Adrenaline, The Devil Is At It Again, He Has Seeped Inside
    Bleak In The Eyes, Like A Desolate Wasteland, My Style Tastes Bland
    I’m Plain Damned, I’m Against The Grains Of Man Like I Encased Sand
    Denial Of Lacerations, Trials An Tribulations With A Fork To Ya Skin Like Kevorkian,
    With Vile Accusations Reporters Implore I Sin, Files To Be Told By Historians

    I Defiled With Abominations, Took A Grenade To School Placed It In A Hand Of A Deaf Child
    He Was Acting Up, I Laughed It Up, He Lost A Limb An His Life, Becuz I Reprimand Death With Rile
    Without Thinking Twice, No Second Look Or Hesitation, I Was Head Of The Investigation
    Further In Mayhem, I Sacrifice And Slay Men, Cold And Heartless Theirs No Segregation
    Characteristics With A Charismatic Crescendo, I Speak For Myself While You Beg For Translation

    ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

    I Devise A Scheme, Transcribe To Scream, Wit A Pen On The Metro, With My Eyes I Dream
    The Fantasy Facades Diminished Dimensions
    Reality Based, I Rather Not Breathe While Fallacy Laced

    I Escape to Astound With No Actuality Embraced






    Submitted on 2006-11-12 22:15:50     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      Sorry to say but this strikes me as being a bit sick - a grenade in the hand of a deaf child? There is some kind of poetry striving to get out here but the whole is too rambling, unconnected, fragile and somehow sour.
    On a poetic basis - the constant use of capitals to start virtually every word is distressing to read and a tiresome affectation. I'm sure there stuff to come out but some discipline is probably necessary.
    If you want to communicate with your readers then I guess some attention to the kind of detail mentioned might usefully move you forward in a positive manner.
    Donald
    | Posted on 2006-12-03 00:00:00 | by siradrian | [ Reply to This ]



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    January 10 07
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