Story cover for Stale Nostalgia: A Collection of Poetry by Ignite_The_Spark
Stale Nostalgia: A Collection of Poetry
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  • WpHistory
    Time 9m
  • WpView
    Reads 353
  • WpVote
    Votes 34
  • WpPart
    Parts 12
  • WpHistory
    Time 9m
Ongoing, First published Apr 21, 2015
I found some of my old poems..
I wrote them at 13/14 years of age. I believe they're quite amateurish. Don't judge me. XD

I don't expect y'all to read this description or even care for the work I post. But the cover image is one of the last sketches completed by the artist William Utermohlen before he died in Hammersmith Hospital on the 21st of March 2007. I connected to this artist since he died on my birthday. Also, I have a passionate interest in mental disorders. Utermohlen suffered from Alzheimer's; if you took the time to research him and look at his work from youth up until the moment of complete deterioration of his sanity (or connection with what we call 'reality'), you'd be just as shocked, fascinated and somewhat saddened by the beauty...
Okay.
-Lakatiel
All Rights Reserved
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Part Of The Wild by LushLemon
13 parts Ongoing Mature
I pull my canteen out and take a swig of my hot cider letting it warm my body, but got interrupted by my sister shouting at me over the wind. "Can you take a picture of me? I have to post it to my followers when we get back down the mountain!" I roll my eyes and turn towards her, I don't even have to say anything to her, because she knows i'll always take photos for her as annoying as she may be. I peel off my mittens and feel the harsh wind eat away at my bare fingers. I stuff them in my bag, before I grab her phone and start backing up to get a better angle of her. She stands by the edge of the cliff and poses. I snap a few photos then flip the camera to take a few selfies with her in the background, even with her words of protest. I walk up to her at the edge, feeling the snow crunch under my boots, and hand her phone back. I then swing my rucksack around to the front of me, get on my knees and start to dig around for my mittens. I suddenly feel the ground shake under me. Before I could even stand up fully, the snow under my legs crumble before my eyes. Holy fuck. The snow is coming loose and is avalanching. I already feel my body fall backwards as the ground under me disappears. I look up at my sister whose face has morphed into shock. My body feels as light as a feather. This is the end for me I know it. I brace my self for deadly impact, but it never comes.. A bright light flashes as everything around me goes white. I wake up to be laying in soft snow with my rucksack on top of me. My head spun as I sat up. I look around and all I see are large trees. In fact, these trees look larger than any i've ever seen in my life, which includes the ones on Animal Planet. Where the hell am I? I look up at the sky and I see two suns? Did I get a concussion? No that can't be, i'm not seeing double with trees or my fingers. {Transmigration to Beast Continent successful} {System 002 has now been assigned to you}
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Words are sharper than knife they say. Yes it is true. Some perfectly moulded good words can both make and break a heart easily. A poem is a group of such perfectly moulded words given wings to fly. They fly through the mind and heart easily. A hobby is an activity we do to express ourselves, our beliefs and our thinking. For example through drawing, dancing, singing, etcetera. Writing a poem is one of such hobbies. Here words are used. These words and messages are far more twisted. A poem hits the mind, a good poem hits the heart. Thoughts Of A Juvenile is just a collection of my poems.I started writing poems when I was 8. I may not be a great writer. But yeah I write to express. There have been times for me like many other teenagers where I thought I was lost and helpless. There have been good times too. I'm standing on the edge of teenage now, telling you that you can survive this. You can survive everything. All you need is to find your strengths. There are sad nights and then there are mornings full of opportunities. Don't give up. I'm here and I'll always be here. Whenever you feel down just remind yourself "Be stupid". Go out in public and the eat the food you like alone, ask out your crush, flirt like there's no one watching, dance like a ghost has possessed your body, prank people, have a little chat with the nerds you know. Surviving is an art not many can master. Be a Master. There are mistakes in this book and I tried my best to correct them. But couldn't correct them all. I would really love to receive reviews and criticism. Vote if you like it. Comment your views. And follow for more poems. Add it to your reading list or library.
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Part Of The Wild

13 parts Ongoing Mature

I pull my canteen out and take a swig of my hot cider letting it warm my body, but got interrupted by my sister shouting at me over the wind. "Can you take a picture of me? I have to post it to my followers when we get back down the mountain!" I roll my eyes and turn towards her, I don't even have to say anything to her, because she knows i'll always take photos for her as annoying as she may be. I peel off my mittens and feel the harsh wind eat away at my bare fingers. I stuff them in my bag, before I grab her phone and start backing up to get a better angle of her. She stands by the edge of the cliff and poses. I snap a few photos then flip the camera to take a few selfies with her in the background, even with her words of protest. I walk up to her at the edge, feeling the snow crunch under my boots, and hand her phone back. I then swing my rucksack around to the front of me, get on my knees and start to dig around for my mittens. I suddenly feel the ground shake under me. Before I could even stand up fully, the snow under my legs crumble before my eyes. Holy fuck. The snow is coming loose and is avalanching. I already feel my body fall backwards as the ground under me disappears. I look up at my sister whose face has morphed into shock. My body feels as light as a feather. This is the end for me I know it. I brace my self for deadly impact, but it never comes.. A bright light flashes as everything around me goes white. I wake up to be laying in soft snow with my rucksack on top of me. My head spun as I sat up. I look around and all I see are large trees. In fact, these trees look larger than any i've ever seen in my life, which includes the ones on Animal Planet. Where the hell am I? I look up at the sky and I see two suns? Did I get a concussion? No that can't be, i'm not seeing double with trees or my fingers. {Transmigration to Beast Continent successful} {System 002 has now been assigned to you}