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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Grief of the Womandots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: KeeperOfLight
    ASL Info:    23, Vancouver BC
    Elite Ratio:    2.54 - 41/64/78
    Words: 331
    Class/Type: Poetry/Depressed
    Total Views: 1079
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1695



    Description:
       


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    dotsGrief of the Womandots
    -------------------------------------------


    I get home from university. I put my bag down by the door, and I take off my shoes. I get a drink of water, and say hello to my roommate. She asks how was my day and I respond it went great, but i’m quite tired, so I am going to read a book, and the roommate asks if it’s okay if she plays her piano, and I agree it’s fine.

    I go to my bathroom and brush my teeth, the roommate is still sorting through her music.

    I get into my bed, close the blinds, and turn on the lamp. The music starts up as I look to the ceiling, I see my soundless chimes.

    The piano starts to play. I put the book over my eyes to block out my lamp light.

    The music takes a silent break. I sob. I keep crying. I throw my book to the side. I turn around, and cover my shoulders with my blankets. The music starts up, the jazz becomes very angry, and somber.

    It continues. I take a breath. I look up and open my blinds. I cry some more as the darkness looks on me. I hit the bed with my fists. I cry.

    There’s nothing I can really do about it although I start to think i’m crazy. The music takes the same demeanor. Crazy, crazy, crazy. A hard cry to the night.

    I get up and hug my knees. I see the tissue on my dresser. I give it a hard look. I take it and blow my nose. A trumpet sound for the show.

    I still cry, but not as much. The jazz is softer.

    I lay back down, more refreshed. Feeling like i’ve felt more than less, and let it fly away. I close my eyes… the music still playing.

    and my pet Bunny jumps on my bed.
    I laugh with my eyes closed.




    Submitted on 2015-08-31 22:21:09     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      Days like these, when life meets a dream, and reality agrees, that it is quite sane, the music will play, the words will scream pain, but the melody plays like a rabbit, and the heart is okay.

    Beat.
    Tick.
    Crackle,
    sizzle, pop, fade.

    All is well that ends well,
    For the well is not to blame,
    when the song is a pen,
    and the ink is a key,
    then the women are men,
    and the eye is a we,
    so don't ever decide,
    to reside in the verse,
    that tells hope it's a lie
    and claims better the worst/
    | Posted on 2015-09-15 00:00:00 | by ShyOne | [ Reply to This ]


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