ArtMoff

Lucy Mccowan

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Clocks by ArtMoff, literature

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Clocks

Clocks are ticking Everywhere They are in buildings, on churches, in lakes like solemn monoliths There are watching us with their hands and faces They are showing us what we miss, what we cannot see They are laughing at us as we go about our mundane lives Thinking we are important And then we are not here anymore, but yet they still remain Watching over us silently as our time ends As we fade from this earth We want to think that they are sad to see us gone. That we were sometimes remarkable, and would be missed. That they would stop just once, ticking, in remembrance. But they continue on.

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Clocks by ArtMoff, literature

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Clocks

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Mirror. by Sound-Of-Soul, literature

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Mirror.

You walk to your room smiling. Today has been a nice day. Nothing would bring your mood down. Or that's what you thought… As you open the door you meet eyes with…..her. Your smile turns to a scowl immediately. You don't even wonder why she's here. You already know. She's here to make your life a living hell. Again. And as you make eye contact, you already feel a shout of hate crawling up your throat. Why is she always here? She's always around bringing drama for no good reason. She's a liar, a cheat, a stupid low-lifed bastard. Her low self-esteem makes you want to punch her. How she wears fake smiles makes you kick he

My Parents on Finals Week by FightingIsolation, literature

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United States
Deviant for 13 years
She / Her

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I'm what ever you want me to be.

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ArtMoff

Feb 13, 2011

Journal Entry

0 min read

What's the point of writing one if you're too lazy to put up any work? I ponder this as I eat my Egg mcmuffin. Lucy Mccowan and the Egg mcmuffin. It sounds like a children's book.