ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
16 years old. Relatively moody, very curious and nosy. Always looking for all the answers. Do I necessarily find them? No. But roads are for journeys, not for destinations. Other titles [August 2000]
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (10) A Fostered Dream (Poetry) Sometimes, giving up and hoping for the worst is easier than facing what you are afraid of. There comes a point when one truly doesn't give a damn because he's been beaten by his pain, and dying seems... [171 words] Angel Wings Of Paper (Poetry) Remnants of childhood abuse. Find the main them written in all the centered words - read each centered single word from top to bottom. [82 words] Cosmic Tides (Poetry) A very quiet poem about one person's realization that they are infinitely small compared to the universe. [187 words] Death By Poseidon (Poetry) This is not so much a straight-forward poem as it is a puzzle, or a mind game. It presents two possibilities to what REALLY happened in the bulk of the poem. After you've read the poem through, read t... [78 words] Here To Stay (Songs) A song about being happy because you are comforted by the knowledge that you're lover will never leave you. [202 words] Meaningful Things (Poetry) The little things have come to be what matter the most. It's the small things which make all the difference. [72 words] Running (Away?) (Poetry) The title should be sufficient explanation. [47 words] Searching The Universe (Poetry) We search, in everything, for the one thing in which we find it hardest to believe or trust... [28 words] Silence (Poetry) A war poem. [95 words] Society (Poetry) It's funny how we often shun those who don't make us feel happy or good or comfortable. What about those people who are depressed? Mentally retarded? Suffering from anger and sadness? Getting older an... [90 words]
A Pointless Search Samantha Carter
I woke up one day, determined to find out Where you were So I walked in the smattered shadows of tall trees looking for your eyes, but didn't hear them. I sawm through muddy ponds and seas to hear the paddle of your oars, but didn't feel them. I ran on Gobi desert sand to see if you were floating in the heated cotton clouds, but I smelled nothing. So I crawled to bed once more, dejected and humbled by the weather, and resigned my eyes to sleep. It was then I felt your breathing on my neck, I heard your eyes beneath my cheek, I tasted skin upon the cold, cold sheets, and I knew that I had searched an empty place just to return to home and sleep, knowing exactly what I knew when I awoke.
READER'S REVIEWS (1) DISCLAIMER: STORYMANIA DOES NOT PROVIDE AND IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR REVIEWS. ALL REVIEWS ARE PROVIDED BY NON-ASSOCIATED VISITORS, REGARDLESS OF THE WAY THEY CALL THEMSELVES.
"That's a really well written and phrased poem 8-> Goof job on it, you should be proud. Please don't be put down if no one responds to your poem, because many people just aren't kind enough. Good luck on your writing career!" -- Kimberly De Liz.
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