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-   -   FaSho's Terrible Writing Corner (https://www.musicbanter.com/song-writing-lyrics-poetry/35274-fashos-terrible-writing-corner.html)

Alfred 12-14-2008 06:00 PM

What grade are you in?

FaSho 12-14-2008 06:04 PM

8th.

Fruitonica 12-14-2008 11:17 PM

Some of your metaphors make me cringe just a little, but only because I forget you are only 14 or so. You could develop into an excellent writer if you keep at it.

Double X 12-16-2008 07:52 PM

Why are you wasting your time writing little paragraphs. Use this stuff to write songs! That's what I do, mostly because I suck at grammar and no one cares about clauses and sh*t in music. Good stuff though.

FaSho 02-22-2009 04:36 PM

BUMP

2/20/09
I'm not goin to put the quote, because my writing really had nothing to do with it.

He was like worn leather, tattered and bruised. His skin hung from his bones like clothes out todry. he wore a threadbare top that didn't bother to hide his visible ribs. He wqas born of fake promises and well written lies, and could not find home in the state of desolation his knowledge of the world had put him in. His tears were a sign of his dashed goals, never to beaccomplished, bu this was not the end. He wiped away his tears, and began to smile as the sun's eyes blazed through him, warming his chapped lips and filling his empty stomach with hope. He stood up and trudged along, full o a newfound pride. He was no longer just a starving child, he had seen the sun, he had seen the eyes of something greater then him, and was no longer lost.

I really like using the sun as a metaphor for hope, it's a reccuring theme in my writing.

darkcornerinthecloset 02-22-2009 04:41 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by FaSho (Post 562842)
More shat for you people who seem to like it.

December 3rd, 2008
"The woods are lovely, dark, and deep...and I have miles to go before i sleep."
-Robert Frost

Darkness begins to swallow me as the sun falls from it's etheral perch atop the trees. I wave goodbye to it, and it ignores me. Whatever, I'll see it again tommorow. I pull my flashlight out of a worn bag slung around my shoulders. The sun was guiding me to camp, but now I was on my own. I knew i had a limited anmount of time to return before the dark's frigid arms embraced me, and dragged me into the shadows. I trek on using memorized patterns of the starts to get home, but the stars seem to dissapear, and so does my confidence. The ever approaching night assimilates me into it's hysteria. I am lost I tell myself. no, can't be i try to reassure my shaking body. I lay down and give myself up to the darkness. Hopefully the sun would remember me in the morning, because she was all that could save me now.

Obviously I can't write in first-person for crap.

thats my favorite Robert Frost poem

deep_and_depressing 02-23-2009 07:01 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by darkcornerinthecloset (Post 601169)
thats my favorite Robert Frost poem

Poetry nerd. haha

Schizotypic 02-25-2009 07:02 PM

From the looks of it your a natural at painting simple concepts/stories. Very good imagery built of good similes and metaphors, and on top of that, you deliver a point. I would also like to see some poetry. Who knows what you could sculpt, if you put a few hours thought into it.

Wifey Boozer 03-01-2009 04:12 PM

Your very gifted with imagery Fa Sho. And I love Robert Frost. ("...And were an epitaph to be my story I'd have a short one ready for my own. I'd have written of me on my stone: I had a lover's quarrel with the world."). I think I'd enjoy from you though, a little bit of grit. Just to try. I look forward to your stuff though. :)

FaSho 03-09-2009 03:25 PM

2/11/09

This is for darkconerinthecloset :rofl:

Crash. I dropped to my knees, pain searing through the wildfire of my legs. My brain split, revealing my malevoent thoughts with benevolent reasoning. I was tred of the lies, tired of the spiraling abyss that tryed to assimilate me daily. Tired of crying myself to sleep. Tears like rain pour down on my selfconbious. A cruel remnant of the tears I've cried, the blood I've bled. I'm tired of the reflection in the mirror, scorning me with it's craggy features. Pale kin, bloodshot eyes, lips that dove and rose in such a chapped formation. I was tired ofmy life I realized. it all came crashing down, the pain, all at once, hence my inabillity to stand. I am glass. I have shattered.


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