Chocolate_Poetry's profile

Through all my lonely childhood And those struggled teenage years In every happy moment And every single tear I reached my hand beside me And nothing did I find No mother to confide in I was walking this road blind You held your lovely liquor More than you did I And all those painful nights You sat and watched me cry I know that I should hate you But somehow through this all I’ve learned to love so deeply And now I stand so tall I wish that you still lived today To see who I’ve become I doubt...

The Guillotine By: Brandon White Chapter One – The Guillotine It’s cold outside. Rampant breaths reveal my fear in a continuous line of smoke trailing from my mouth. I’m nearly naked, dressed only in a mocking shroud draped across my shoulder and tied around my waist so as not to display any private areas. Chains and shackles bind my wrists and ankles, a representation for me of a simple flicker, a blemish in the renowned light of the normality of society. I hold my head high in pride. Even i...

It’s cold outside. Rampant breaths reveal my fear in a continuous line of smoke trailing from my mouth. I’m nearly naked, dressed only in a mocking shroud draped across my shoulder and tied around my waist so as not to display any private areas. Chains and shackles bind my wrists and ankles, a representation for me of a simple flicker, a blemish in the renowned light of the normality of society. I hold my head high in pride. Even if it is false, it is all I have… They mock me, screaming and ...

Chapter I - Jonathon My mother always told me love was the slowest form of suicide. In my home, it was known as a poison which blinds the eyes, deafens the ears and paralyzes the body. I always agreed. Though deep in my heart it was a passion I always longed for. I always dreamed of one heart, one soul to love no matter and whether it be life or death, our love would live forever. Of course I couldn’t tell my mother that. Ever sense my father ran out on us and left us with absolutely nothing,...

Chapter One – The Guillotine It’s cold outside. Ramped breaths reveal my fear in a continuous line of smoke trailing from my mouth. I’m nearly naked, dressed only in a mocking shroud draped across my shoulder and tied around my waist so as not to display any private areas. Chains and shackles bind my wrists and ankles, a representation for me of a simple flicker, a blemish in the renowned light of the normality of society. I hold my head high in pride. Even if it is false, it is all I have… T...