Missed Chance

October 21, 2009 at 6:01 am (Grant) (, , )

I could have said so many things.

“Please stay.”

“Goodbye.”

“I love you.”

But I never got the chance.

She was gone before I could think of what to say.

Now I sit and stare at all that’s left, a column of stone.

All I can say,

“Rest in peace.”

By Grant

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Pity, Really

June 25, 2008 at 6:36 am (Grant) (, )

“Pity, really…”

I glared, before turning my back on them. They didn’t understand.

“Bye,” I whispered, not daring to breathe, in case tears followed.

“He had a good life…”

I closed my eyes. A good life? Hardly. He never had a chance to have a life.

He was only ten.

By Grant

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In The End

March 24, 2008 at 1:34 pm (The Dreamer) (, )

In the last moments before I died,I looked around at my loved ones and wandered what I could say to them.

Not to worry? That would be pointless.

That it was alright? That would be a lie.

Words of love? They already knew.

There was only one word.

“Goodbye.”

By The Dreamer

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I’m Not Sure Anymore

March 22, 2008 at 1:25 pm (Monarch) (, )

Yes I was there. I saw them leave and it angered me. I loved her but she took me for granted. That’s life… How many years do I get for confessing? The Death penalty?…

At least I’ll see her again. She’s my wife. She committed adultery so she’ll be there too!

By Monarch

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Consequence

March 10, 2008 at 3:43 pm (Monarch) ()

His day began like every other day. it certainly ended differently.
Not only did he lose his reason for living, he gave up his soul to get it back. He realised,crossing the street,
that if he she returned things would not be the same. Never stop during Rush hour.

By Monarch

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Back to Work

March 9, 2008 at 2:34 pm (Grant) ()

He sat on his throne, hourglass in hand. He stared, thoughtful, as the last few grains of sand slipped away. Once the last grain had made its slow fall, his skeletal form seemed to sigh.
“What a waste,” he murmured, standing and retrieving his scythe, “but back to work.”

By Grant

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Waiting

March 9, 2008 at 2:32 pm (Grant) (, )

The breath came light and slow. The room stood still, hushed and expectant, mourning black surounding the bed. The watchers held their own breath as they waited for the next one to come, and when it finally did, they sighed. Again, they must wait, wait, wait, wait for the last.

By Grant

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