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Cozy like a scarf
Free verse

Life is cozy

In this little house

There's not much to do

And that's okay

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Picking out my favorite passages. Gonna try and post at least one a day in the comments below.

Anyway, starting off with a work from very familiar name...

"Be silent in that solitude,
Which is not loneliness—for then
The spirits of the dead, who stood
In life before thee, are again
In death around thee, and their will
Shall overshadow thee; be still."

—From "Spirits of the Dead" by Edgar Allan Poe

If, like me, you wanna learn something about this poetry stuff but suspect you're missing a lot of it, genius.com is a great resource. It's a crowd-sourced annotation of poems. Look up a poem and read the notes other readers have left. Can't make sense of "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" ? Check out the annotations of Eliot's allusions on genius.com!

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My jedi’s soul hath ne’er blacked out the sun;
His eyes burn nothing like the flames of hell;
If snow be white, why then his fur is dun;
His laser sword’s less bloody than pastel.

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My depression is not what you deem sadness
Its something more akin to madness
Othello killing Desdemona
Holy roller
Satan's got my motor
Anger

I fear what I will do every day
Going crazy in my room killing pain
My scars don't exist physically but mentally
Surgeries making me afraid to cut away the things I hate about myself
That might not help but that's all I got
The memories of darkened rooms
The fear
The uncomfortable feelings of not wanting to be touched

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(If you haven't read the story, then don't read that!)
So, i remembered about Lead Us Not and i thought of creating a lyrics for a fansong that i'm probably never gonna do. Ok, here we go:

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Once upon a time,
there was Equestria, the most beloved land.
A place full of joy and memorable things,

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I don’t remember wedding bells
and I doubt I ever will.
I recall neither the organ,
nor the clicking of your heels.
I hear no congratulations,
hear no pastor, hear no spiel.
Burnt sheet music on a stand.
Rinse it out. Watch the notes spill.

You smile. I can’t read lips.
You talk. The deafness grips.

Tears flow in unknown tongues,
as you walk down the aisle.
I’m not sure how it sounded.
I haven’t for a while.

On the Inside

What do you think?

My name is pinkie pie
Just like AppleJack can't lie

I'm just going to sigh
Playing on the marry go round ride

It's so happy Just so happy I just can't die.
Maud just got her self a rock candy lime.

I just got some wood stack pine
breaking the forth wall just one at a time

It's been such a miracle rhyme
because fluttershy is so kind

Rarity is so sublime
Twilight Sparkle is researching some slime
and rainbow dash is taking a sonic rainboom dive.

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Is it hate or is it disgust when you think of me? If you think of me at all. I wonder if the past still lives in you—the way it grips in me. Or did it die, forever long? And, if so, did anyone take time to grieve?

I hate the way you treat my memory. The way I fear you treat my memory, to be fair. I don’t know you, you don’t know me. Strangers now across state lines. Across strange lives. Pendicular per the fact that once we crossed and never more shall meet.

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I've never properly gushed about her, so I think I'm just doing this one as a collection of works from my favourite semi-obscure poet.

First Fig:

My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends—
It gives a lovely light. 

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There was a rich stallion from Trottingham who tried to cross the river

WHAT A DOPE HE TRIPPED ON A ROPE!

Now look at him shiver!

I found this poem by Frith, buried deep inside the VIII August entry of Twilight's Blog. I'd never have found it if he hadn't posted about it in the Poetry group; and even then it took a bit of searching to find it. So I'm copy-pasting it here, so even the lazy among you can enjoy it.

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I'm locked inside a chamber
and I can't get out.
I swear I had a voice once
but, I'm filled with doubt.
I'm yelling and I'm screaming
but, I hear no shout.

No melody. No melody.
The echo won't rebound.
No memory. No memory.
No proof I made a sound.

Pain

I wonder what it's like to feel
The slice of the whip upon my back
The slap of the stick upon my feet
The burn of the wax upon my skin.

I've never really been into the pain side of BDSM,
But then again
My love of BDSM is all talk
And no play
Because I am a wimp.

And yet, I wonder, because
I have never had an ounce of willpower or a modicum of self-control.
I have always been lazy and disorganized.
Off medication, I accomplish nothing

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(An original work by me)

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