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Little treasure box: August 2010

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Thursday, August 5, 2010. The air thick with perfume and smoke. Dust dancing infornt of me. He took my hand and led me in. Or was it a she? Too hard to see. The chair a soft. I sat in it. Picked up the dice. The chips comes and then it goes. Roll and roll and roll. The seconds tick by. The clock dosnt move. Nothing but saddness and gloom. The old lady in the corner. She looked at me. And when someone score. Its a huge celebration. With wine and champagine. That taste bitter and fake. What time is it?

thelittlebintreasurebox.blogspot.com

Little treasure box: The Game

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Thursday, August 5, 2010. The air thick with perfume and smoke. Dust dancing infornt of me. He took my hand and led me in. Or was it a she? Too hard to see. The chair a soft. I sat in it. Picked up the dice. The chips comes and then it goes. Roll and roll and roll. The seconds tick by. The clock dosnt move. Nothing but saddness and gloom. The old lady in the corner. She looked at me. And when someone score. Its a huge celebration. With wine and champagine. That taste bitter and fake. What time is it?

thelittlebintreasurebox.blogspot.com

Little treasure box: Darkness

http://thelittlebintreasurebox.blogspot.com/2010/03/darkness.html

Thursday, March 11, 2010. Darkness is all I see. Living alone, alone can be. In my apartment I sat alone. The moon never quite shone. Everyday people pass me. As if they cannot see me. I am cursed they all say. So they leave me that way. Knowing joy is never to be. For a person as lonely as me. Whats the use of being smart. When I am lonely from the start. Life is such a misery. Espicially when it comes to me. That's my life story. There isnt anymore and would not be. AND I DONT KNOW HOW TO WRITE HAIKUS!

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Little treasure box: The opened cage

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Thursday, February 18, 2010. From day to day. Eyes a milky grey. I watch it watch the skies. Wondering if it would fly. Silently I open the door. And sat back down knowing it saw. It came close then back away. Peek its head out and back again. From that day on the open door reminds. But the fiery sad creature never escapes. We are like the little bird. We hate being restricted. But at the same time, we are scared of what lies on the outside. The bird wouldn't. Fly No it wouldn't. So would you fly out?

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Little treasure box: April 2010

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Wednesday, April 21, 2010. A flatter of the wings. And gone is the creature. Memories for the better. It takes a brief moment. And it last forever. The presence left untouched. All that is left to remember. So as the creature go. The feathers' a golden tint. But the story will remain. Like many things that comes and goes, life is one of it. We never know when its over. Neither would we know when it will stat. Nothing is expectant. Nothing is truly known. I couldn't take my eyes off Jim as his pie a-la-mo...

thelittlebintreasurebox.blogspot.com

Little treasure box: February 2010

http://thelittlebintreasurebox.blogspot.com/2010_02_01_archive.html

Thursday, February 18, 2010. From day to day. Eyes a milky grey. I watch it watch the skies. Wondering if it would fly. Silently I open the door. And sat back down knowing it saw. It came close then back away. Peek its head out and back again. From that day on the open door reminds. But the fiery sad creature never escapes. We are like the little bird. We hate being restricted. But at the same time, we are scared of what lies on the outside. The bird wouldn't. Fly No it wouldn't. So would you fly out?

thelittlebintreasurebox.blogspot.com

Little treasure box: Doll

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Thursday, May 27, 2010. One day, as she watch, she suddenly smiled. Her eyes twinkled and wrinkles formed around her mouth and eyes. The next day, and on from then, the widow never came to the window again. The house a silence, the place a mess. The wind that blows has stop and the spiders have left. The dolls still sits, her hair a faded tone. Her clothes a dirty white and a tear ran down from her right eye. Znnabelle. . . . . Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). Do you really need to know?

thelittlebintreasurebox.blogspot.com

Little treasure box: I dream of a prince

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Thursday, March 11, 2010. I dream of a prince. I dream of a prince. On a white horse. All macho and charm. I dream of a prince. Red as the sun. He will take me. To see the race. Of the monster rally trucks. I dream of a prince. With under seat gum. Of rock and roll. I dream of a prince. With his math book. And we’ll do sums. Christmas came like every year. And I got him a calculator. In return he gave me. I dream of a prince. He’ll take me. I dream of a prince. As long as a farm. Is money and grace.

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Little treasure box: May 2010

http://thelittlebintreasurebox.blogspot.com/2010_05_01_archive.html

Thursday, May 27, 2010. One day, as she watch, she suddenly smiled. Her eyes twinkled and wrinkles formed around her mouth and eyes. The next day, and on from then, the widow never came to the window again. The house a silence, the place a mess. The wind that blows has stop and the spiders have left. The dolls still sits, her hair a faded tone. Her clothes a dirty white and a tear ran down from her right eye. Znnabelle. . . . . Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). Do you really need to know?