Journal Entry 47: Chasing Ends of p'sChasing:Journal Entry 47: Chasing Ends of p's by BlackinkMoonWolf
The end of paper predicaments,
The end of paralyzing periods,
The end of progressive penitentiarys,
The end of precarious pasts.
Journal Entry 46: Summer SwallowingSteal the Summer Moon at the peak of dawn,Journal Entry 46: Summer Swallowing by BlackinkMoonWolf
Free the willing winds before they are gone,
Spend the rain on weary things,
Fly with fish on watery wings,
Spread the sands out and away,
Find the sense to outplay decay,
For it's time for the season of reason,
And to outlive the world is worthy treason.
Summer is the time to take back,
All old spring has ever had,
And to store that life from death,
Into the heart of winter's breath,
So know what purpose is,
And why the seasons make us suffer,
It is merely taking back all it had to offer.
Journal Entry 45: End of the Year Scribbles.A caged animal circling it's cage,Journal Entry 45: End of the Year Scribbles. by BlackinkMoonWolf
Excitement tracing down our veins,
Adrenaline rushing up to our brains,
Let nevermore this day be the same,
Struggling to hold it down until that chime,
Stuck in the imprisonment of wasted time,
Spinning down the halls in our prime,
Sparring our genius for next years climb,
So what is there to fear?
Let it be the end of this year,
Let us not shed any unwanted tears,
Let this school know our cheers,
A doomed romance that shall be content,
For but a day all sorrow is spent,
A day where regret is long away sent,
And all endings are as they are meant,
A day for one last laughable chat,
I can only hope for a last day such as that.
Journal Entry 44: Graceless Dolls can't dance.Journal Entry 44: Graceless by BlackinkMoonWolf
Dolls of porcelain,
Dolls of glass,
Dolls of plastic made to surpass,
Still creak and falter,
Stagger and totter,
Stiffen and fail to alter,
That part to produce a personable dance.
They can glide and twirl and the like,
Bend and swivel all the same,
But those things in the image of us,
Fail to foster what we still only claim.
Flowers aren't only plants.
Flowers of porcelain,
Flowers of glass,
Flowers of paper to bloom in advance,
Still larger and smaller,
Shorter and taller,
Offer and be without water,
Copies of nature's capturing plants.
They can change in a day,
Yet still those things as nature's canvas,
Cannot compare to mechanical endeavor.
To be of grace, you must entrance,
People of porcelain,
People of glass,
People of plaster replacing chance,
Still pitter and patter,
Stand and clamber,
Be gardener or dancer,
We still admire those who skillfully entrance.
But dolls and fake plants w