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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Garbagedots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: brokenroses
    ASL Info:    17/m/indiana
    Elite Ratio:    3.93 - 191/192/62
    Words: 325
    Class/Type: Misc/Serious
    Total Views: 675
    Average Vote:    3.0000
    Bytes: 1884



    Description:
       before writing anything in the comment box, i want you to stop and truly apply this. to turn the idea over in your head and really try to accept the idea for what is there. make sweeping generalizations, form opinions, judge me, judge yourself, judge everybody and everything. make this yours.


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

    dotsGarbagedots
    -------------------------------------------


         From the banks of the creek where the falls flow and the water rushes, I sat and enjoyed. Life was sweet and the world was just, and the thoughts that seemed to plague my mind flew far away on some mindless migration. The water hurried and scurried to nowhere in particular, jumping rocks and raging rapids to go no place.
         Thoughts of day to day life ran rampant in my rambling mind. A broken box is carried on the currents as we, on our journey to nowhere, are swept up in some trend and taken away to some destination undetermined. Millions of boxes mumble mindlessly along the waters of life until we meet with some undetermined location along the banks. We shift ever closer towards the end of our journeys, but there seems no end in sight.
         My box, my subject, hurled over the falls into the raging rapids below. Turbulent trials await that cardboard wonder, as do trivial times scream impatience to our deaf ears. Should we become comfortable with the garbage careening the currents around us, or will we lose them all at the next fall? Will some fork come and seperate the comfortable? Will some bend subject us to the unknown?
         Time alone will answer these queries, for our destination is as so a mystery to us as to some higher power. The banks will grow more narrow, the rapids less intense, the garbage less dense, and our journey will draw to a close. You and I will land on some bank, somewhere, some time unknown. May we only hope to land close, for you, my trash, my lovely trash, are the only light in these dark polluted waters. You, my tin can, my grocery sack, you bring stability to the rapids. May we only hope to land beneath some peaceful bridge on some beautiful bank. Together.




    Submitted on 2006-04-04 22:22:59     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      This is beautiful
    This write speaks real truth
    No matter hoiw worthless something may seem there is a purpose fpr everything
    I tried something once and weighed the attributes of something deem ed worthless and all of the time their is a never ending conclussion
    Everything helps everything
    There is no such thing as useless
    actually I take that back
    The word Useless is useless
    God Bless
    Ron
    | Posted on 2006-04-05 00:00:00 | by Ronswords | [ Reply to This ]
      i reallyliked this, with your permission at some point i would like to make this into a song. i dont know if i actully will, if i had your promission i and i did i would send you the lyrics. i reminded me of socity being mindless and simple going the way they are dricetd. i saw this in a political aspeact. like pink floyd another brick in the wall. also a lost wondering aspet that we all simple face. when we ask question about wherether we had compamissed our passions and beliefs and gained a life we dont really want or like and how to get out of it and change our direction. or not even having a direction which is more of the case when we are young and simple facing on makeing those choices where we would like to go.
    thats what i think
    snuff
    | Posted on 2006-04-04 00:00:00 | by snufthepunk28 | [ Reply to This ]


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