Post by Zodiac on Jun 9, 2007 23:49:46 GMT -5
yee ow! i like this. i was insprired by a fight i had with a friend this evening. i sent it to lisa, its emo, and it gave her chills, but she loved it >:3. i hope you enjoy my emo poem! XD it will give you chills XD
its soupposed to be like.. metaphorical, if you dont get it.. tell me XD
its soupposed to be like.. metaphorical, if you dont get it.. tell me XD
a fight.
over nothing.
a battle of the missunderstood, the one, know one really under stands there past, there present, there point of view.
and the concieted, the one that thinks there everything, only listening to it's views, it's way, thinking it's the greatest, and everything is benethe it.
the Concieted, a cold, back stabbing b*tch, One that does not listen to the greater good, a selfish, good for nothing brat-in the eyes of the Missunderstood.
the missunderstood, a nobody, a nothing, with a past that dose not matter, for in the eyes of the Concieted, it is benethe it, just like everything else.
The concieted draws its cold, hard, steel blade of resentment, makes its move. its prey, the missunderstood. The Concieted thurst forward, head on.
the missunderstood, takes its blows, the sharp pain of its words, the cold feel of its blade. the cold sharp metal peirces the skin, summoning blood to rise from the wound.
the concieted. it enjoys the small yelps of pain form the missunderstood.they give it strength,gives it encouragement.
the missunderstood, trying its best to fight back, to break the surface of the concieted's thick skull; an inprenatrable surface, as if it were made of steel. nothing works. it fights back with all its might, it knows that it is right- the concieted hides the fact that the missunderstood is correct; for it can not bear the thought of being wrong.
the concieted takes its final blow; knowing the missunderstood cannot take much more. its cold blade slashes the skin of the missunderstood's hard abdomin. he smiles with pleasure, knowing it is all over.
the missunderstood drops, it watches the blood trickle down its finger, the blood was warm, and full of ideas, great things to be done to make the world better. all cut short in the battle over nothing. he smiles a crocked smile, blood leaks from his mouth. it has lost a friend, it has lost its life, but the missunderstood has made a point in the concieted's mind that will burn there forever.
and that was the end.
of the fight.
over nothing.
over nothing.
a battle of the missunderstood, the one, know one really under stands there past, there present, there point of view.
and the concieted, the one that thinks there everything, only listening to it's views, it's way, thinking it's the greatest, and everything is benethe it.
the Concieted, a cold, back stabbing b*tch, One that does not listen to the greater good, a selfish, good for nothing brat-in the eyes of the Missunderstood.
the missunderstood, a nobody, a nothing, with a past that dose not matter, for in the eyes of the Concieted, it is benethe it, just like everything else.
The concieted draws its cold, hard, steel blade of resentment, makes its move. its prey, the missunderstood. The Concieted thurst forward, head on.
the missunderstood, takes its blows, the sharp pain of its words, the cold feel of its blade. the cold sharp metal peirces the skin, summoning blood to rise from the wound.
the concieted. it enjoys the small yelps of pain form the missunderstood.they give it strength,gives it encouragement.
the missunderstood, trying its best to fight back, to break the surface of the concieted's thick skull; an inprenatrable surface, as if it were made of steel. nothing works. it fights back with all its might, it knows that it is right- the concieted hides the fact that the missunderstood is correct; for it can not bear the thought of being wrong.
the concieted takes its final blow; knowing the missunderstood cannot take much more. its cold blade slashes the skin of the missunderstood's hard abdomin. he smiles with pleasure, knowing it is all over.
the missunderstood drops, it watches the blood trickle down its finger, the blood was warm, and full of ideas, great things to be done to make the world better. all cut short in the battle over nothing. he smiles a crocked smile, blood leaks from his mouth. it has lost a friend, it has lost its life, but the missunderstood has made a point in the concieted's mind that will burn there forever.
and that was the end.
of the fight.
over nothing.