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Literature Text
All i ever wanted
Was to be a man from an honest breed
Not this monster forged in the fires
Of unforgivable deeds
My breathing is loud
Inside this mask of another man
Who's limbs are controlled by
Marionette strings..
If only i had the strength
Long ago
To cut myself free
And reforge myself
Into a stronger
More honest man
Was to be a man from an honest breed
Not this monster forged in the fires
Of unforgivable deeds
My breathing is loud
Inside this mask of another man
Who's limbs are controlled by
Marionette strings..
If only i had the strength
Long ago
To cut myself free
And reforge myself
Into a stronger
More honest man
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Literature
The Banker Man Don't See
Long nights ahead of me
Even longer days
He works two jobs and I try to help
We do whatever it takes
But it ain't enough
It's not nearly enough
No the Banker man don't see
The Calluses on his hands
He don't see the tears I cry
no, he don't understand
we're doing everything we can
just to make it through the week
But that's just a couple things
Yea that's just the little things
The Banker Man don't see
Literature
Mr. Gilbert
So here we are again,
Doing the same as we did before,
Waiting for the bell to ring...
Maybe today you'll do something.
We sit here waiting to be told what to do,
You sit there and tell us to stop talking.
You sit there and wonder why we do nothing,
We're waiting for you to do something.
So here we are doing nothing again...
Have you always done this before?
Have the others before sat waiting for you
Waiting to be told what to do?
Waiting for you to stand up and teach
While you were just biding your time?
Did they just sit waiting for the bell to ring
And waiting for you to do something?
So here we are again,
Same as we will hereafter,
Sa
Literature
Man in The Loft (descriptive exercise)
I found him in the loft one night, taken aback by a ghastly sight.
He sat there in a tattered, dusty suit. His face a deathly pale, his eyes two petrified marbles suspended at the entrance of endless wells.
Even in the dim light his skin seemed to have a papery translucence to it - long boney hands draped over his stick thin knees, in stark white contrast to his dull black suit.
The mouth suddenly moved - "I won't bite". The mumble came from his thin lips suddenly, strained and hoarse from decades of disuse; his voice withered and full of dust.
I was still frozen, my feet sinking into my step on the steel ladder. My mind was still trying
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Comments15
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why be honest? why reinvent yourself?
could you not just accept who you are and then move on?
accept all your flaws and your brilliances and then carry on with your life
have hope
in my opinion a hopeful man is better than an honest one
could you not just accept who you are and then move on?
accept all your flaws and your brilliances and then carry on with your life
have hope
in my opinion a hopeful man is better than an honest one