Literally-nemo - WillowTree Music

I wasn't very happy when I wrote this.

Dreams are useless Their lips mock me Their eyes judge me There is no place to hide

There is nothing left No fight to fight No battle to win It boils down to my own self

Violence intrigues me Peace is safe Peace is warm The violence inside explodes

Action seeps into my being Passivity fails me Apathy humiliates me Response demands me to take the cup

Just a little thing

nobody knows (original song) - Shelby Jean

nobody knows what will happen to me/we asked for a storm and we swallowed a sea/father will wonder and mother will weep/and nobody knows what has happened

~here’s a recording of my final project for my seminar on WWI

~played on my mya-moe baritone ukulele

olivia pierce

Little thing I wrote

Everything is silent Her bed-springs creak as she sits up; The fresh November breeze tickling her spine The room is dark Her hands skillfully search for something with which to cover herself; Going through the well-practiced motions The door creaks behind her It locks smoothly as she turns to take it in; The night for which she so longs Her eyes are tired Though her face, her body, her aura, all come to life; Her entity awakening from the daily sleep She is in complete control Her mind gluttonously takes in deep spoonfulls of the stillness of it all; Her lungs greedily absorb the crisp autumn air The moon is working hard The reflection of himself portraying her path as she perceives it; The sun guiding her, though unseen An elderly man approaches His eyes linger on hers, uncertain of their paths; She peers into his soul He radiates regret Her soft, warm smile greets his with nonverbal pleasantries; Their minds meet at the definition of understanding Vexed by a sound A crack in the wall of silence robs her of her attention; With dog-like ears, she follows where they lead A stream reveals the rocks Those that slow and split the water; She loves how they control the chaos Her chest rises and falls The freshness of the water stealing her mind; Like a drug, makes her forget reality A new tree has been planted Her feet are roots, her arms are branches; She falls somberly, passively among the copes

New style I’m trying out.

landsbyggðinni

shannon elle