

What I will becomeI am staring into a mirror And what do I see is endless darkness I see a darker image of myselfWhat I will become
I see what I will become I will be a soulless being full of darkness I will be heartless I will long for blood, the night I will love to torcher people And get great pleasure from it When I look in the mirror I do not See what I am now
I see what I will become Very soon I will say good bye to the sun I will live only in the night This is the real me a dark evil thing A vampire
I will turn others as well And soon the world will be dark


Torus poemI feel so happy even when I am sad I smile all the time it makes others glad I dont show my pain because I dont want to feel distain I see the world brightly every day I guess I am unusual that way Others around me are afraid of being touched because they turn into animals But thats ok with me I am not afraid of losing my memory I am so happy that I have so many people who love me So I try and not be a burden to them So I feel so happy even when I am sadTorus poem


KillerI remember the day I died I remember who took my life away from me I hate you for what you did You killer you murderer I was a simple girl with nothing to give to you I had I good life going for meKiller
But you stole it from me You killer you murderer Why did you do this to me? Why did you turn me? I hate you, you jerk you killer You snuck up behind me and grabbed me I screamed and you covered my mouth
Youve done this before havent you? You killer
You knocked me out And when I woke I was different
You had fled to your den I h


Bellas poem about Edward andI look in the mirror and what do I see, I see me but a different me a more happier me, Now Im sad and empty shell hollow, I feel nothing, Im numb, and I hear nothing, My life was happy when he was in it, He made me smile and I him, We hugged and kissed, I could breathe, now I have a gaping hole in my chest, Where he used to be, I have no idea how I hold myself together But I do But lately Ive been feeling better Because of my personal sun, my Jacob But my heart still yearns for him, my EdwardBellas poem about Edward and
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Each man kills the thing he loves. -Oscar Wilde
The hawk on fire hangs still. Dilly dilly, calls the loft hawk, come and be killed. Dilly dilly, come let us die.
it's those stupid things we say in the rain, the words that can't ever be washed away.
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...be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger...
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