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Post by Artemis on Sept 18, 2009 3:56:13 GMT -5
Black is the rose plucked from her dead heart. Even tears won’t return the colour red, For she died long ago, her lips carry the stain Of broken memories lying still on her bed.
Blue are her eyes but they see nothing. She was blinded by betrayal long ago. They once had depth, one could drown almost; but they have now lost their mischief and glow.
It is behind a hideous mask she lives. The sun and rain refuse to melt its facade. The black rose has poisoned thorns which pierce as she presses hard.
Still a child in womens clothing. A most talented actress who died but lives, She awaits the final curtain at last Always the best performance she gives.
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Sarah
Experienced Member
~Everything happens for a reason~[ss:Autumn]
Posts: 381
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Post by Sarah on Sept 18, 2009 16:56:37 GMT -5
Kerry this honestly made me cry. So much hurt that she must've felt throughout her life. This truly is a heartbreaking piece. Such suffering...to go one's entire life acting...i honestly don't have adequate words to express the power behind your words. An exalt is all I have to offer. *hugs* ~Sarah
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Post by Jamie~poetshare.forumotion.com on Sept 28, 2009 10:15:51 GMT -5
Ah, the exquisite communication of this performer's anguish is painfully riveting, ma chere. Black roses impress the reader with how dead the performer feels inside at times. Lovely writing, horrid subject, makes me worry about you. *hugs*
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Post by Artemis on Sept 28, 2009 12:07:48 GMT -5
*hugs* my friends. I'm sorry this made you cry Sarah. Jamie I write a lot of healing stuff, it just unclutters my mind and frees it of all the crap. I'm fine really, just writing this stuff is how I started in the first place, I find it easier to write what I know ... lol depressing as it may be, Kerry xxx
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Post by Jamie~poetshare.forumotion.com on Sept 28, 2009 12:47:32 GMT -5
Well, if it makes this much of an impact on people, you must be one hell of a writer/performer, right?
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