/lit/ - Literature

HES GONNA TAKE YOU BACK TO THE PAST
TO READ THE SHITTY BOOKS THAT SUCK ASS

>>18948511
I got a stinky in my pooper and it won't come out,
livin' my life with a heck of a doubt
it'll ever find its way out of my butthole
for this I forever scroll

>>18544085
>By the waters of Siöl…

>>18348172
AND IF THEY FALL AS LUCIFER FELL
THE FLAME, THE SWORD
THE STARS IN YOUR MULTITUDES
SCARCE TO BE COUNTED
FILLING THE DARKNESS
WITH ORDER AND LIGHT
YOU ARE THE SENTINELS
SILENT AND SURE
KEEPING WATCH IN THE NIGHT

>This is the feast of victory for our Lord

>>17553642
PURIFIED
OUR MISFIT WAYS
AND MAGNIFIED
OUR CRYSTAL DAYS

>>17369262
arthoe, there's no need to feel down
i said, sweaty, dust yourself of the dried cum
i said, sweaty, 'cause you're an author now

Linguistics is gay. Only SLA matters.

>>16336701
It's a long way to Mukumbura...
It's a long way to Jawl...

I draw the curtains on another day
And pick up my diary but there's nothing to say
I went to see a friend to see how she's been
But when I got there she wasn't in
She never is
I sat in the park for what seemed hours on end
Watching autumn leaves fall from the trees
And the birds flying high up in the breeze
And tomorrow it might rain
But then again it always does
I buy a ticket from mistery train
As soon as I get there it's time to come home again
And from every window there's a different view
But I still can't find you
Don't think I'll ever will

Hi, I’m an amateur writer. I’d like to know your opinion about this poem. I used many figures of speech.

And so -I thoughed to Iself- that's final day, day final of my own destination, destiny and finalization. My obsesion morbid, that morbidity days where I finally realized -oh, and indeed I did- that there was and was not an escape from the fierce, abrut and miserable trajectory I sat for thyself and myself.
No one and nobody and none though I was gonna -going to one to decide for- end my days that day.
What's and why's and who'sht the point of beauty; Who's care gonna care?; Why should'a one's care bout?
Why should someone, anyone, whoever, care about the infinite questions that pound my heart, my inner desires, and above all, that feel final instict of improvement of self.
Why care?