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Literature Text
Sudden Cruelty:
He is a God, or so he believes
He judges others and puts them into stereotypes
Asian? No life! Hispanic? Brainless!
He thinks he has control over his world
A delusion which he has never been able to break
Me? I'm better than them, I'm smarter...
He sits alone in his room, ignoring the emptiness
He sits in front of his computer and passes judgement
Lol, you're wrong. You're stupid. Everything is stupid!
He laughs and smiles at his own cruelty;
He feels powerful and most certainly superior to all
But in the end, it's just a fantasy isn't it?
He curls up in his bed, thinking about tomorrow
Here, he's a king, but out there, what is he?
The guy, whose girlfriend dumped him
The guy, whose boss is younger and smarter
The kid, who has nothing to live for
The man, who has lost it all...
Arrogant and apathetic, cold from a lack of warmth
That is his very nature, that is who he really is
He has nothing to live for, nothing to strive for
He looks at the world and sees nothing, bleak emptiness
Dreams he once had, that were thrown away so long ago
He sighs and takes out a cigarette to smoke:
"If I can't have it, why should anyone else have it?"
He thinks he is a champion
but all that we see, is a child...
"Locked so deeply in despair, he cares for nothing and no one..."
-Chen Yuan Wen, 20th July 2012
He is a God, or so he believes
He judges others and puts them into stereotypes
Asian? No life! Hispanic? Brainless!
He thinks he has control over his world
A delusion which he has never been able to break
Me? I'm better than them, I'm smarter...
He sits alone in his room, ignoring the emptiness
He sits in front of his computer and passes judgement
Lol, you're wrong. You're stupid. Everything is stupid!
He laughs and smiles at his own cruelty;
He feels powerful and most certainly superior to all
But in the end, it's just a fantasy isn't it?
He curls up in his bed, thinking about tomorrow
Here, he's a king, but out there, what is he?
The guy, whose girlfriend dumped him
The guy, whose boss is younger and smarter
The kid, who has nothing to live for
The man, who has lost it all...
Arrogant and apathetic, cold from a lack of warmth
That is his very nature, that is who he really is
He has nothing to live for, nothing to strive for
He looks at the world and sees nothing, bleak emptiness
Dreams he once had, that were thrown away so long ago
He sighs and takes out a cigarette to smoke:
"If I can't have it, why should anyone else have it?"
He thinks he is a champion
but all that we see, is a child...
"Locked so deeply in despair, he cares for nothing and no one..."
-Chen Yuan Wen, 20th July 2012
Literature
What's Not Being Said
I heard you sigh
but at the time
I didn't say a word;
I saw you cry
but didn't know
your voice was so unheard.
I felt you break
but truly thought
I shouldn't be around;
For my own sake
I should have fought
to keep your feelings sound.
Please, listen to what's not being said.
Literature
I'm Not the Marrying Kind
I'm not the marrying kind.
I have stones in my hair instead of flowers,
And a rosebush of thorns is more poignant to me.
I'm not the marrying kind.
My words aren't pretty or wise,
And I can't sing about anything but a broken heart.
I'm not the marrying kind.
I am the sort of damaged you see in an old recorder,
And the kind of old in an instrument that breaks into a billion pieces at a touch.
I'm not the marrying kind.
Neither neat, nor tidy, nor correct in my behavior,
And yes, I did in fact tell you to fuck yourself.
I'm not the marrying kind.R
Literature
Body Speak, Mouth Don't.
"I need a favour. You got a minute?"
No. No I don't.
My heart feels ripped out of my chest and trampled on too often.
My ears open to screams in the morning.
My eyes close crying every night.
My mind always turns dreams into nightmares.
My lungs contract too soon for me to catch my breath.
My worries far outweigh my years.
My brain feels overworked, overwrought, so tired.
My stomach cramps every night and I curl up in pain.
My knees weaken often but I'm still standing.
My mouth goes dry and I can't speak.
My hands dampen because I have too much to think about.
My bones feel weaker than they ever have before.
But I don't think it
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Author's Comment:
People often ask me. Why do I just take insults? People throw vulgarities at me and I just brush over it.
Well, to put it this way. I can only talk from personal experience, but my daily life is so busy I have no time to do anything between preparing the next piece, touching base with everyone and just generally getting things done. I realise that those with the time for other matters, don't have anything that's really precious to them. They get angry, feel good for awhile and then it's back to whatever awaits them...that's pretty sad if you ask me :/ So I humour them ^^ Least I could do I feel, I used to be like that after all.
Also, a lot of people ask me why front page means so much to me. Well, it's actually the principal behind what's happening really. Denying someone the front page because they get popular too often is like the following scenario:
You've just won a race. You woke up at 7 in the morning to train. You went on a diet. You worked hard. Through that, you won the race and crossed the finish line. You go to the award ceremony. They tell you that, because you've won last time, the next guy gets to have first place and you get a consolation prize. They say that a lot of people saw you win last time and you have a lot of fans now, so it's fine to just get a consolation and go home.
I think that if that happened at ANY sporting event, the person would feel pretty upset. So, if it's not okay for sport, why is it okay for art and literature? Food for thought.
-Chen
HONOURABLE MENTIONS:
Prophet Prophet Prophet are continuing their efforts to spread the word
Want to know what the above line is about? Read my appeal: [link]
Author's Comment:
People often ask me. Why do I just take insults? People throw vulgarities at me and I just brush over it.
Well, to put it this way. I can only talk from personal experience, but my daily life is so busy I have no time to do anything between preparing the next piece, touching base with everyone and just generally getting things done. I realise that those with the time for other matters, don't have anything that's really precious to them. They get angry, feel good for awhile and then it's back to whatever awaits them...that's pretty sad if you ask me :/ So I humour them ^^ Least I could do I feel, I used to be like that after all.
Also, a lot of people ask me why front page means so much to me. Well, it's actually the principal behind what's happening really. Denying someone the front page because they get popular too often is like the following scenario:
You've just won a race. You woke up at 7 in the morning to train. You went on a diet. You worked hard. Through that, you won the race and crossed the finish line. You go to the award ceremony. They tell you that, because you've won last time, the next guy gets to have first place and you get a consolation prize. They say that a lot of people saw you win last time and you have a lot of fans now, so it's fine to just get a consolation and go home.
I think that if that happened at ANY sporting event, the person would feel pretty upset. So, if it's not okay for sport, why is it okay for art and literature? Food for thought.
-Chen
HONOURABLE MENTIONS:
Prophet Prophet Prophet are continuing their efforts to spread the word
© 2012 - 2024 WordOfChen
Comments316
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I think that your poem was very well written. It was rhythmic and had a professional feel to it. Even though there may have been some use of incorrect punctuation, it was used in a way that only added to the effect of the poetry. I believe your message was clearly presented and fully expressed. If I may suggest a specific area of improvement it could be that there may be a more suitable title. I do not mean that the title is unsuitable, but only that I believe you could have done better. All-in-all, it is a fine work.