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Post by samiface on Mar 25, 2009 19:27:12 GMT 12
I'm standing this far away from now on- and no one's allowed to tell me I'm wrong. I saw every seed fall down the hole and they never made it out alive. And I'm asking, I'm not begging (yet). I'm too sleepy to find it. But when the days blow by I'll be sitting with my pen, and my face on the paper. Evolve, wake up, won't you? I can't find your spirit, but I know you've got one. Playing God, being God. I'm not God. Neither are they, so who did they know? You can't come alive without a creator-- then you were alive already.
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Post by Honey_Bunny on Mar 26, 2009 9:02:55 GMT 12
Thats so wonderful! Can I ask what's it about and what inspired you to write it?
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Post by samiface on Mar 26, 2009 16:46:41 GMT 12
it's part frustration with creating a character, part lusting for the actor i see in my head as playing the character. it's like... i can't create the character, then he was alive already. i'm laughing as i think how this must sound....
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Post by Starbeast on Apr 10, 2009 10:01:01 GMT 12
Whoa, intense and metaphorically abstract, it's quite a poem. Well done, I like it. I do understand what you mean by your explanation of the poem.
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