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| Thread: Poetry, poetry, poetry... |  This thread is pages long: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 · «PREV / NEXT» |
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Wolfman
Responsible
Supreme Hero
Insomniac
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posted December 02, 2004 10:34 PM |
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I can't take credit for this masterpiece, but a friend of mine wrote it.
Mary had a little lamb
With her it used to frolic
It licked her cheek in play one
day and died of painter's colic
Mary had a little lamb
Her father killed it dead
And now it goes to school with her
Between two hunks of bread
Beautiful, ain't it? I found it in the back of his car. 
____________
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Consis
Honorable
Legendary Hero
Of Ruby
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posted December 03, 2004 08:31 PM |
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Edited By: Consis on 27 Dec 2004
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I found this by poem by Sir_Stiven in the alcohol thread:
Quote:
Now there was this time i had just alittle too much to drink,
so when i was done throwing up i fell asleep on my best friends zink.
At that time he was really pissed off at me,
Since i had promised him to tag along and the town to see.
If anyone of you wonders how drunk by raki you can get,
just listen up because it was for me the first time an appointment with the white porcelin god were set.
So.. to get back to my senses i had a glass over and over filled with water and ice,
well actually no ice but since water is so tough to rhyme on i pulled this one out in disguise.
Couldnt remember too much of the water drinking anyway though,
But now i can since photographs were taken by my so called bro´.
Anyways so i started to get more sober and it was time to change clothes,
which by the way was the first time since being a child i needed help getting dressed.. well thank the booze.
So party in town were getting started and once we got out in the fresh air,
I figured out again how to walk in a stair.
My friend and i had this deal,
if i were able to come along when been that drunk he promised the truth about this story was to be sealed.
So when we got to the party we got a approached by a friend,
and looked at my friend and said that he always got to drunk in the end.
Then he looked at me and said,
that i always looked so proper and he wondered if ever any alcohol got up to my head.
So my friend and i started laughing so hard,
but because of our deal this was a secret not even to reveal for the scotland yard.
Nowadays i can hold my liquour and as long as the white porcelin god praying is concerned,
ive only been there one more time so i think my lesson was well learned.
Because whats it about is handeling it like anything else,
Do that and there will be no case of listening to church bells.
These days i party about once a week,
which is quite enough.. that way most ladies know which one to seek.
And the social side is also strong when having some beers,
just dont drink to much.. have fun and in great company enjoy some "cheers".
I found yet another two wonderful poems written by Xenophanes, whose favorite Hero is Mutare Drake. Without further ado, here they are!
Quote:
Greedy Overlords and Warlocks abound,
In the nation of Nighon, underground.
But in this realm of champions tall,
There is one greater than them all.
She literally started out as zero,
And then became a Nighon hero.
Not even twenty years ago,
A woman with nothing for herself to show,
Brought a child into her care,
When she gave birth to Mutare.
Since the woman was in will quite weak,
And scarcely could afford to eat,
Twelve year-old Mutare she had to abandon,
To survive her horrid famine.
But Mutare was a sturdy lass,
And very easily surpassed
The street urchin’s lowly class.
Now, Mutare had determination of which to boast,
A quality that Dragons admire most,
And at the very least,
Had an affinity for the beasts.
With their aid,
Mutare quickly made,
The honorable rank of general,
To be part of the Overlord Rauric’s arsenal.
But she resented Rauric’s control,
And vowed to break his iron hold.
Mutare’s chance came in time,
When at a feast Rauric had too much wine.
He then said, quite stupidly,
“Unless a woman can appear beautifully,
SHE AIN’T WORTH A DIME TO ME!!!”
Well, this made Mutare really mad;
She called Rauric names that are really bad.
And because the young hothead couldn’t keep her cool,
Mutare challenged Rauric to a duel!
Now, you can probably guess who won’
When she cut off Rauric’s head, Mutare was champion!
So Mutare became a Dungeon Overlord,
But eventually got kinda bored.
You see, Mutare knew this neighboring lord,
Called Ordwald, he had riches, horde upon horde!
And the thought never entered the old geezer’s bald head
To do something with his power besides snoozing in bed.
Well, Mutare started tryin’ to take Ordwald down,
But he was nowhere to be found.
Now, during her campaign against Ordwald,
Mutare learned more about the geezer bald.
It turned out Ordwald had spent his life and dough
On searching for a Vial that long ago
Was filled with the Dragon Father’s blood
To become the fabled Vial of Dragon Blood!
Just then, Mutare cracked an evil smile,
For she too knew the legend of the Vial.
She knew, and I’m not braggin’
That if she drank it she’d become a sentient Dragon!
Oh, this was more than Mutare could stand;
She hurried to get her Dragon Band.
She said, “Listen boys, I’ve got a plan
That’ll make me the strongest lord in the land;
Into a Dragon I’ll transform,
And make Ordwald wish he’d never been born!”
Well, Mutare and Ordwald the Vial chased,
And you should know who won the race,
It was Mutare who found the Vial’s resting place!
Now Mutare is Mutare Drake
And then it was a piece of cake
To defeat Ordwald and his lackeys
Making Mutare happier than happy!
And here is a 2nd from the same post/thread:
Quote:
You can soar, you can fly, having the time of your life
See Mutare, watch how mean, dig in the Dragon Queen
Midnight and it ain’t no joke
You’re flying around with fire and smoke
Time to wreak your vengeance where the people scream
You’re gonna kill Bracada’s King
With a bit of luck you will find that guy
His palace is near so time to fly
With a bit of searching everything is fine
You’re in the mood for combat
And when it’s time for that…
You are the Dragon Queen, mean and lean, only seventeen
Dragon Queen, feel the beat from your crimson wings
You can soar, you can fly, having the time of your life
See Mutare, watch how mean, dig in the Dragon Queen
You’re so evil, you destroy all
Burn the Castle and watch it fall
Looking for another battle, anyone will do
You’re in the mood for combat
And when it’s time for that
You are the Dragon Queen, mean and lean, only seventeen
Dragon Queen, feel the beat from your crimson wings
You can soar, you can fly, having the time of you life
See Mutare, watch how mean, dig in the Dragon Queen
Special thanks goes to Angelito for reviving the thread. And great work Xenophanes!
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Roses Are Red And So Am I
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Nidhgrin
Honorable
Famous Hero
baking cookies from stardust
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posted December 30, 2004 10:12 PM |
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Great tread! Posting one of my favorite poems, hope it hasn't been posted already
Hope
Hope is a state of mind, not of the world . . . Either we have hope or we don't; it is a dimension of the soul, and it's not essentially dependent on some particular observation of the world or estimate of the situation.
Hope is not prognostication. It is an orientation of the spirit, and orientation of the heart; it transcends the world that is immediately experienced, and is anchored somewhere beyond its horizons . . .
Hope, in this deep and powerful sense, is not the same as joy that things are going well, or willingness to invest in enterprises that are obviously heading for success, but rather and ability to work for something because it is good, not just because it stands a chance to succeed. The more propitious the situation in which we demonstrate hope, the deeper the hope is.
Hope is definitely not the same thing as optimism. It is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out.
Vaclav Havel
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Consis
Honorable
Legendary Hero
Of Ruby
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posted December 30, 2004 11:57 PM |
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Truly Inspiring Poem
Thankyou Nidhgrin. It was a truly inspiring poem to read and digest. I personally agree with it.
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Roses Are RedAnd So Am I
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deathwoman
Hired Hero
angel of darkness
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posted December 31, 2004 12:06 AM |
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i saw a rose . on your nose
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I SHALL BE YOUR BRINGER OF DEATH....YOU SHALL BE KILLED BY A WOMAN.......
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Shadowcaster
Honorable
Supreme Hero
Shaded Scribe
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posted January 22, 2005 04:08 AM |
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This one is by no means new, but it is a giant revamp of a poem I submitted earlier in this thread. I edited this poem so that I could show it to a girl, so you can bet it's gotten better.
Timeless
Caught in the wake of life's repose,
Protected from its highs and lows,
Secluded from all friends and foes,
There comes a time to rest.
Life is unceasing, never leasing,
Much needed solace from its flight.
With no outlet, all seem to sweat,
Those details that are wound too tight.
The pressures of the daily grind
Care not if we are left behind,
It's bound to make one lose his mind
When pushed beyond his best.
So here I stand, with visions grand,
Of where I'd like to go from here.
Fear not the cost, we have not lost
The time we spend with those most dear.
We know not what may lie ahead,
But we know all we've done and said,
The marks we've left, the lives we've led,
The joys we've known, the tears we've shed;
All meant to make us realize,
We're each timeless in someone's eyes.
____________
>_>
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pandora
Honorable
Legendary Hero
The Chosen One
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posted January 24, 2005 05:35 PM |
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This is not mine: I found it while cleaning in the OtherSide and thought I'd move it here.
Originally posted by Lilia_VaBay on July 30, 2003 05:25 PM
Crescent
A healer she is and a healer she was
Dancing under the moonlight was what others see
Bells chime with each leap
For the bells are worn around her ankles
This dance healed the forest
Crescent is what the fairies call her
A healer she is and a healer she was
Crescent stood at four feet tall
Her hair was like black silk
And forever it is as it waves in the wind
Her eyes are like rippling water under the moonlight
That was how she got her name
A healer she is and a healer she was
Child of the Moon is what she is
Appearing at night and sleeping at day
However, it is heard she also plays under the sun
Giving herself and others a time of joy
Beauty of a child is what she wields
A healer she is and a healer she was
Her best friend is a powerful beast
He is said to be half dragon and half elf
Yet, he is gentle to her like a lamb
His eyes are of a demon
Crescent loves him so
A healer she is and a healer she was
Her laughter is heard in a Forest of Oak
Other children just like her live there too
But, they all are brothers and sisters
Crescent is what the fairies call her
Child of the Moon is what she is
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"In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends."
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sirzapdos
Promising
Famous Hero
Open the pod bay doors, Hal.
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posted January 25, 2005 02:47 AM |
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I was thinking about this on the way home from work,
and I got it more or less down in my mind.
Then I come here, and saw the poem thread on page 1,
surely this must be a sign!
*********************
Before you start playing H2,
There are things you need to know.
Like info about the sixth level creatures,
Coming to you poetically, oh no!
First off are the Knight's Crusaders,
holy men immune to curse.
You can bet in a battle with these guys, that
the Necromancer's undead units die first.
Since their Hit Points are a tad low,
direct damage spells are their bane.
But, good speed, two hits and good growth with
low low cost make them good units all the same.
Moving on we have the Barbarian,
and his sturdy level 6 Cyclops.
Here though, we have a melee unit,
where in H3 and H4 they shoot rocks.
The Cyclops' most useful feature,
in my opinion, is the two hex attack,
Which, when used correctly,
can hit not one but two stacks.
There is also a chance of paralysis,
which is basically blind with no ret.
However, it does only last a few turns,
so opponents will need not fret.
The Sorceress' Phoenix is next,
a beautiful creature of flame.
Extremely useful too,
as it's the fastest level 6 in the game.
Being immune to elemental spells,
means no more Lightning or Cold Ray.
It'll take Armageddon, or a strong Magic Arrow,
for a Mage to blow this creature away.
Now this unit may sound perfect,
but alas this is truly not so,
as the Phoenix's HP, as well as Attack and Defense
are comparatively quite low.
Now the fun commences,
this creature will truly frighten
its opponents in combat,
of course I mean the Titan.
Its attack and defense are the game's highest,
with a tie for game's best in HP.
It truly becomes fearful,
when you consider mind spell immunity.
These units alone can make up an army,
as their bolts are no weaker up close than when shot.
My only caveat to you dear reader,
is when buying these creatures, you'll be spending a lot.
All in all, an excellent unit no doubt,
the best shooter in the game, bar none.
But as for the title of H2's best unit,
it has some competition for being number 1.
The debate over the best is one that still rages,
with neither side slippin or saggin.
Is it the Wizard's beloved Titan,
or the Warlock's rampaging Black Dragon?
Second in Att/Def, and tied for best HP,
this unit's max damage holds top spot.
Toss in a two hex attack, good speed and flight,
and this is a unit to dread, i kid you not.
Magic users should be warned,
facing this unit will bring a great frown.
As there isn't a spell in the world
that can bring this unit down.
It may be a thousand gold less than the Titan,
but that doesn't mean you won't have to be thrifty.
The only problem is the large amount of sulfur.
To make a Black Dragon, you'll have to spend more than fifty.
Next on deck is the undead Bone Dragon,
commanded most of the time by the fearsome Necro.
Beware this unit, those with no morale,
facing this beast will bring it sub zero.
With a super cheap cost, consisting only of gold,
this dragon can help make your wealth last.
Maybe they should have traded the low cost
for some speed, as this unit isn't too fast.
Being undead gives this unit some help,
as blindness and curses cannot tame this beast.
This is kind of bad too, as Bless would be nice,
guaranteeing 45 damage per strike at least.
Now just for a lark, I'll include this last creature,
even though, Hit Point wise, it may be a weenie.
But with a killer special ability, you gotta watch out!
By now you've guessed, I must mean the Genie.
Unrecruitable in towns and castles,
you have to find their lamps on the ground.
And with low Attack, Defense and HP,
you may think they're the worst level 6 (?) around.
But that feeling will change,
of this I do swear.
When with one strike,
20 Titans vanish into thin air.
This ability, called halving, does just what what it says,
with the chances for success at around one in ten.
Unquestionably this power can be way too strong,
which is why genies never had this ability again.
I hope you learned something today,
and that with this knowledge, you go out and win.
As for me, I must leave immediately,
all this rhyming is making my head spin.
____________
So I try to live a complicated world...
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RedSoxFan3
Admirable
Legendary Hero
Fan of Red Sox
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posted January 25, 2005 08:44 AM |
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Here's my first crack at this thread.
The Dance of the Wind
Blades of barley
Dance in docile breezes
Tender leaflets sway
Back and forth
Back and forth
Forever following the lead
Of their favorite partner in dance
Shifting, gusting
Changing its pace
Changing the music it creates
With his howls of joy
And her ruffles of glee
They dance the day away
The wind is graceful
When dancing with friends
With tender leaflets
With blades of barley
____________
Go Red Sox!
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Peacemaker
Honorable
Supreme Hero
Peacemaker = double entendre
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posted January 25, 2005 07:55 PM |
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RedSoxFan3
Admirable
Legendary Hero
Fan of Red Sox
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posted January 25, 2005 08:01 PM |
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Thank you, Peacemaker. I just got into this poetry in the past couple weeks from my Creative Writing class. Here's another one. A bit different. The first draft was shorter, but my instructor told me to make the setting more obvious, so the metaphors would be stronger.
The explosion
A business complex
sits upon a field of green blades
to which chain links surrounds
I enter my office,
a patch of dirt
with walls of white chalk
A man
gazes upon me
as I prepare for my days work
He informs me
that numerous employees
are forming picket lines
The seal barked
pointing its fin at no one
off to the right
I hear the protesters outside
become restless.
They must know
I am beginning to crack
The man taunts me
with threats
of a company-wide strike
The seal barks again
It's now my last chance
to stop the strike
He reaches out
to hand me an envelope
but I rip it from his hands
rip it in half
and slam the door shut.
The messenger
was caught off guard
he had gotten away with one there
But a relentless messenger he was
kicking down the door
forcing his message upon me
He had plans to put an end
to my company
to my business.
I would not let that happen
not now not this time
I blow up in his face
and my loud explosion
sends his message
for the hills.
I stare
at the message man
as he shutters in disappointment
I listen to the silence
of the former
employees
as I round the bases
in satisfaction
in celebration.
____________
Go Red Sox!
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Peacemaker
Honorable
Supreme Hero
Peacemaker = double entendre
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posted January 25, 2005 08:08 PM |
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This story was sent to me by my father today. I thought it was rather magical so I'm posting it here.
TAPS
If any of you has ever been to a military funeral in which taps was played; this brings out a new meaning of it. It is the song that gives many a lump in our throat and sometime draws tears to the eyes.
But, do you know the story behind the song? If not, I think you will be interested to find out about its humble beginnings.
Reportedly, it all began in 1862 during the Civil War, when Union Army Captain Robert Ellicombe was with his men near Harrison's Landing in Virginia. The Confederate Army was on the other side of the narrow strip of land.
During the night, Captain Ellicombe heard the moans of a soldier who lay severely wounded on the field. Not knowing if it was a Union or Confederate soldier, the Captain decided to risk his life and bring the stricken man back for medical attention. Crawling on his stomach through the gunfire, the Captain reached the stricken soldier and began pulling him toward his encampment.
When the Captain finally reached his own lines, he discovered it was actually a Confederate soldier, but the soldier was dead.
The Captain lit a lantern and suddenly caught his breath and went numb with shock. In the dim light, he saw the face of the soldier. It was his own son. The boy had been studying music in the South when the war broke out. Without telling his father, the boy enlisted in the Confederate Army.
The following morning, heartbroken, the father asked permission of his superiors to give his son a full military burial, despite his enemy status. His request was only partially granted.
The Captain had asked if he could have a group of Army band members play a funeral dirge for his son at the funeral. The request was turned down since the soldier was a Confederate.
But, out of respect for the father, they did say they would give him only one musician. The Captain chose a bugler. He asked the bugler to play a series of musical notes he had found on a piece of paper in the pocket of the dead youth's uniform. This wish was granted.
With the simple, short tune on the slip of paper, three verses were written. The words were:
Day is done.
Gone the sun.
From the lakes, from the hills, from the sky.
All is well. Safely rest. God is nigh.
Fading light
Dims the sight.
And a star, gems the sky, gleaming bright.
From afar, drawing nigh, falls the night.
Thanks and praise
For our days.
'Neath the sun, 'neath the stars, 'neath the sky.
As we go, this we know. God is nigh.
The simple little tune, which the bugler played, was the melody of Taps.
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terje_the_ma...
Responsible
Supreme Hero
Disciple of Herodotus
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posted January 25, 2005 08:10 PM |
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I wouldn't call this poetry, it's more like a nursery rhyme I made while sitting in my room, watching the snow and thinking about the last we saw of Bran in George R.R. Martin's "A Song Of Fire And Ice":
My fingers are black
My hair is white
My moose is grey and strong
My hands are quick
My lute is sweet
Come join me in this song!
____________
"Sometimes I think everyone's just pretending to be brave, and none of us really are. Maybe pretending to be brave is how you get brave, I don't know."
- Grenn, A Storm of Swords.
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Shai-Hulud
Known Hero
Sicomor
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posted January 26, 2005 02:15 AM |
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Ok, this was first written in Romanian, so it for sure it sounds different( number of sylabes on a row and not only). Also some words just don't sound the same( ex: "sfarteca"--> carve out.. not the exactly what I was waiting for).. Anyway, the result is this:
Ritual...
One morning, I was feeling new...
Enlightened, I took a knife
Carved out slowly in my chest,
And put my heart into the ground.
Finnally, I took my wings
Made from spider's web,
After that, I flew out.
Where?Back towards me...
For those of you who know romanian, it goes like this:
Ritual...
Intr-o dimineata, m-am simtit nou
Dandu-mi seama usor, am luat un cutit
Mi-am sfartecat incet pieptull,
Si-am asezat inima in pamant.
In final, mi-am luat aripile
Din panza de paianjen,
iar apoi am zburat!
Unde?Inapoi spre mine...
Dunno know if you understand anything, but if anyone asks for an explanation to this, I'm here..
____________
~~~Azzy~~~
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TheRealDeal
Promising
Supreme Hero
Foobum* of Justice!
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posted January 27, 2005 10:57 PM |
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So Sweet, never Sour
Her heart, like a Flower
Love is Bright
A Heavenly Flight
She's my only Love
Sweeter than a dove
More Beautiful,
More sweet,
She's passing me by.
She's the light of my life.
I love you.
____________
*We all know the that Foobum is the class of all that is Cake.
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terje_the_ma...
Responsible
Supreme Hero
Disciple of Herodotus
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posted January 27, 2005 11:57 PM |
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At another forum I occasionally visit, a guy has a sig that goes something like this:
"If 'con' is the opposite of 'pro', then what is the opposite of 'progress'?"
Being the hopelss supporter of representative democracy I despite everything am, I made a little quasi-poem to counter the afore-mentioned "riddle". The quasi poem goes like this:
"If 'con' is the opposite of 'pro'
The opposite of 'progress'
Is still 'regress'."
____________
"Sometimes I think everyone's just pretending to be brave, and none of us really are. Maybe pretending to be brave is how you get brave, I don't know."
- Grenn, A Storm of Swords.
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Nidhgrin
Honorable
Famous Hero
baking cookies from stardust
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posted January 29, 2005 05:37 PM |
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Don't you know you're talking about a revolution
It sounds like a whisper
Don't you know they're talking about a revolution
It sounds like a whisper
While they're standing in the welfare lines
Crying at the doorsteps of those armies of salvation
Wasting time in unemployment lines
Sitting around waiting for a promotion
Don't you know you're talking about a revolution
It sounds like a whisper
Poor people are gonna rise up
And get their share
Poor people are gonna rise up
And take what's theirs
Don't you know you better run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run
Oh I said you better run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run
Finally the tables are starting to turn
Talking about a revolution
Finally the tables are starting to turn
Talking about a revolution oh no
Talking about a revolution oh no
While they're standing in the welfare lines
Crying at the doorsteps of those armies of salvation
Wasting time in unemployment lines
Sitting around waiting for a promotion
Don't you know you're talking about a revolution
It sounds like a whisper
And finally the tables are starting to turn
Talking about a revolution
Finally the tables are starting to turn
Talking about a revolution oh no
Talking about a revolution oh no
Talking about a revolution oh no
~Tracey Chapman - Talkin'Bout A Revolution~
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IYY
Responsible
Supreme Hero
REDACTED
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posted January 29, 2005 08:29 PM |
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This is not mine, but I helped with it:
Vigilance
by Poete Virtuale
"Can my heart be compared to the healthy , swift exuberance?
Can he endure the selfish , resonant gust?
Does it know not of helpless Chekhov or flaky Juliette? "
Oh how tense is the wing
Does she not sense the king
How can it sing
Oh how sticky is the thing
Does a woman not see the ting
Does she not hear the zing
Does it not hear the ping
behold how frantic is the king
How can it resume
oh how defiant is the glove
lo how little is the tomb
Does she not sense the glove
Does a woman not see the groin
Does my heart not hear the string
How can it join
How can it spring
lo how envious is the costume
lo how upset is the flight
Does a woman not feel the womb
Does a woman not see the wright
____________
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Consis
Honorable
Legendary Hero
Of Ruby
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posted March 26, 2005 08:24 AM |
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Edited By: Consis on 13 Apr 2005
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The Warrior's Plea
They eyes of the poet, the general, and me
Are held with a strength not commonly seen
Inside there is depth
Depths 1,000 leagues
1,000 leagues to see the true me
As a man I am honest and vigorously set
In my ways of old dogs, new dogs, and nets
Living life to its fullest can be
As rewarding as supper, or breakfast, or lunch at 3:00pm
Tis global and local and closer still yet
The Ides, the ID, and fear, and fret
The mind may wander but at length it will see
Peace and love and serene harmony
Let me be!
Said I to the sea
Let me be and die by the wreaths that hang neatly
Let me be sea!
Let me be free and do it with glee
Let me die a warrior's death through legend and sheen
Let me be remembered by the deeds that define me
Let all those who spoke and said nice things about me
Let them have a great meal with great friends infinitely
Listen to the sound of the warrior's plea
~written by Consis
Not that anyone cares but I thought I should correct something I said in a different thread. I had commented on the auction of William Shakespeare's First Folio. I said it had been sold for about $5 million, but after a bit of searching I found the exact price and related details:
Quote:
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE’S FIRST FOLIO SELLS FOR
$6,166,000 AT CHRISTIE’S NEW YORK, ESTABLISHING
A WORLD AUCTION RECORD FOR ANY 17TH CENTURY BOOK
The Library of Abel E. Berland
October 8, 2001
New York, NY – The First Folio by William Shakespeare, dated 1623, and one of only five complete copies in private hands, was sold tonight at Christie’s New York for $6,166,000. This is the highest price ever paid for a work by Shakespeare at auction and an absolute world auction record for any 17th century book. This First Folio, arguably the most important book in English literature, was part of the sale of the Library of Abel E. Berland, a Midwest book collector.
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Roses Are RedAnd So Am I
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Gandalfs_Girl
Known Hero
Champion Ice Cream Eater
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posted September 19, 2005 11:10 AM |
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aint posted here for a while
these are 2 songs i wrote, kinda poems
Meaning of True Love...
I look into your eyes
they show me everything i need to know
They say love is blind
but you are one to just let it show
I cant believe how lucky i was
the moment i found you
You held my hand
you'd understand
you are everything to me
You stopped the rain
you eased the pain
you were the one who made me see...
The Meaning of True Love
All those times in the hotel rooms
i felt so safe with you there
You gave me protection, resurrection
you always showed you cared.
You held my hand
you'd understand
you are everything to me
You stopped the rain
you eased the pain
you were the one who made me see...
The Meaning of True Love
So obsessed with hair and looks
ive never known anyone so vain
but hunni i love you and if i had to choose
I'd choose you over and over again
You held my hand
you'd understand
you are everything to me
You stopped the rain
you eased the pain
you were the one who made me see...
The Meaning of True Love
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What do you see?
Behind these masks of happinness
lays the girl that you once knew
battered, broken, bruised and shamed
no longer knows what she can do
but what do YOU see...
look past the jokes and smiles
what do you see
the clothes i wear and the heart i bare
do you see the real me?
I try so hard to fit in with you
cos i feel ive got something to prove
but i can see youre getting sick right now
have i made the right moves?
what do you see...
look past the jokes and smiles
what do you see
the clothes i wear and the heart i bare
do you see the real me?
So here i am now confessing all to those who think they know me
yeah ive got everyone who says they care so is it right to feel so lonely?
Im torn, guilty so weak inside
but there isnt one night that i dont cry
So do you think you know the real me now???
Did you ever see?
look past the jokes and smiles
what do you see
the clothes i wear and the heart i bare
do you see the real me?
battered
broken
bruised
shamed
is this what you see?
by
K-lee
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