Free Online Articles Directory
Home Page  Michael Giles |
|||||
 |
Sort By: Date | Popularity
 Dreams Aimed: a Sacrifice...Till now, when I had been wondering how I could've done it right, without the alarming nuisance of the ticking clock, without the waste of an hour for my soul and body to reach out and squeeze a ring-a-bell rhythm, and without that speech heard-spoken. I just felt how ceremonious it could have been. Buzzing withing your sense of hearing all the time. But, somehow I found out how I grieve for those minutes of emancipated talk. A Story of Fiction: Sentiments of a 13-year Old...I begged that I may feel NOW as my past, wherein I could jive with them, click some shots, sit stuck amidst the traffic, crack those jokes, play with the music in marsh blending, watch the movies flicker, drop the compunctions, evade the snubs, derive an imbroglio, and imbue the ecstasy of life. Market of Emotions...we were able to prevent disgraces of a plump, sickly image of downfall, of a crack deep within the fault zones of our differences, of a clash inflicted by abrupt distrust and miscommunication, of an impediment standing still while taking the spared chance to be together once more. Captive of a Virtureal LoveShe glanced
My heart meant that beat
Unusual
Consumed my strength
I felt like melting
Dripping drop by drop
Heated by flame of love
She beamed again Left Unbearably Stuck, Missing Some Points...I never mentioned life in optimism when I left, for I've been in a half-paced thinking. I was reigned by the gloomy side of life.
Dislocated from that distinct sense of place, I reminisce those instances of my life. It's not that easy to target its essence. Sometimes, I pause for a moment, at a point where I drown into loneliness. I carry this puzzling world all by myself. It's not That Hard to ImagineSometimes I start to ask myself, am I assuring myself what's best for me? Have i grown enough to face the crowd of danger? Or am I just playing with this contemporary game I entered, running backwards, and hiding from the challenges associated with growing up. Wanted: EscapadeJust a continuum
of the petty, childish fear to weigh less than others
of the swollen heart which sought for temporary treatment
of that skepticism seeking forth my significance
of the dreadful past while I kept lonely in clandestine A Shattered NightThis is a poem written for people who felt hopeless, when he missed something or maybe some words, he was much awaited for. Written...find it hard to be able to compromise with my skills, by which I cannot express words totally in clear construction, because I felt so scared that I might trip on something which may seem biased or too judgmental. ...and i wonder how sacrifices shape the credibility of one's self. When I push my self to deadlines, or when cut-off dates pull me back, or when conflicts in schedule aid me in thinking which opportunity to discard and learn to detach, and which choice to make.
|
 |
|||
|
Article Categories
|
|
||||
|
|
|||||
