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Literature Text
Donald;
I am most apologetic
but I fear my wallet has not the means,
-and I not the desire,
to deliver you the rent today.
I only hope that I may bide some time
and when I get my cheque
three hundred dollars will be yours;
while twenty one will be mine.
You always are a most understanding man,
and I thank you for this favour.
-gh
I am most apologetic
but I fear my wallet has not the means,
-and I not the desire,
to deliver you the rent today.
I only hope that I may bide some time
and when I get my cheque
three hundred dollars will be yours;
while twenty one will be mine.
You always are a most understanding man,
and I thank you for this favour.
-gh
Literature
To the Moon
To the Moon
Aspirations like children
Small simple sublime minds
Dreams beyond adult comprehension
Why shouldn't a tree be
A rocket ship
A catapult
A vessel to the moon
Cut the strings that hold you
To the earth
And fly on children wings
The sky looks empty
Its not
The sky is filled with
These little dreams
Like sparrows at the moon
Literature
Who Am I - Blingie
Who am I?
I am a person. A brother. A son. A friend.
I like pasta. I go to school. I get good grades.
I go into town. I hang out. I want to get a job.
I like watching TV, playing video games, reading.
I don't like swimming, skateboarding or public speaking.
I get sick. I like to sleep in. I'm terrible at exams.
I support my friends. They support me.
I can be happy. Sad. Excited. Bored.
I like renting movies and eating pizzas on a Friday night.
I play piano. I watch Monty Python.
I spill things on my shirt. I have a weird taste in music.
Gay is not who I am. It does not define my personality.
Gay is not what I am. It does not chan
Literature
The Fuguist
Jonah hated Mars. He hated everything about it. Every minute he spent there he was plagued by a vague feeling of unrest: Mars was not quite foreign, not quite familiar, an endless mirage or coma dream. Maybe he was dead, and maybe this was purgatory. Sometimes he considered praying at night, asking for forgiveness, just in case, for whatever sin might have banished him there, but then he looked out over the barren, forsaken wasteland and thought his time was much better spent sleeping, or walking.
But he hated how soft the ground was, how little clouds of dust exploded under his soles with every step, and how he could turn around and see his
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This is an Epistle I wrote while thinking about having to pay my rent next month. It is simple, and quite to the point. I have never written anything in this "form" before, but I like it. I may have to try it again.
© 2007 - 2024 ghbatt
Comments106
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I definitely love this style.