scrallscripts

The poet is still alive in this mad scientist

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  • scrallscripts 5w

    Do you want my truth?

    Do you want my truth?
    Do you care to know it?
    This is it.
    I have read a hundred thousand stories
    Some on weekends and some on Mondays
    These stories, characters and all
    Fly like black bats in the cave that is mind
    They flutter and screech and I cannot help but to be aware of them.
    My plan is to trap the right ones
    I plan to catch them before they make me mad.
    I plan to catch them before I become them.
    In this grand way of wasting time, running around in my head
    I realize I am writing my story. Word for word, a rhythm to this madness
    ©scrallscripts

  • scrallscripts 7w

    My Father

    I had a father
    And I lost him
    Not like a pen or a 50 pesewas coin
    Those things can be found or better yet replaced.
    I lost him and now I cannot find him
    I miss my father, I miss him well
    I miss him, not like an exit on the motorway.
    I miss him like a sore tooth I don't want to pull out..
    Remind me why won't you, that I had a father and I lost him.
    Happy Father's Day Dad.
    ©scrallscripts

  • scrallscripts 8w

    No pressure

    Pressure mounts with every thought, word and feeling.
    Pressure mounts with time.
    Pressure mounts with every doubt, with what seems right and every face beaming,
    Telling you no pressure right on time.
    It's pressure. It's pressure.
    Set to a timer and ready to blow.
    Hearts, livers and kidneys, pressure knows when it's your time to go.
    Pressure mounts with every thought, word and feeling.
    No pressure, no pressure always right on time.
    ©scrallscripts

  • scrallscripts 9w

    The Barber's Content

    Do you think they wonder?
    Do you think they care?
    Do you think they smile and ask themselves
    If your recent haircut makes your head feel bare
    Do you think they point and nod
    When they see you pass
    Do you think they say to themselves
    It was I, it was I that gave him that cut
    ©scrallscripts

  • scrallscripts 9w

    Locura

    My dear,
    Doubt is madness. Two faced madness
    It is madness that has not yet decided to be mad
    The to be or not to be.
    The this or the maybe that
    That vexation of the spirit.
    Its grows on you until you stop it or let something stop it.
    It won't go away by itself unless you shout it away
    Like a rabid dog needing a stick and stones
    It won't go away till you decide
    Till you decide you are done with being mad.
    Till you pick and choose and never look back
    ©scrallscripts

  • scrallscripts 10w

    The voice

    A still quiet voice cuts through the babble
    Firm and so sure of itself
    That still small voice so capable of much more
    Is ever present in times of trouble
    This loud voice, this mad voice, this wild voice are also here contributing to the noise
    But this still small voice cuts through the babble, so subtle ever the voice of God
    ©scrallscripts

  • scrallscripts 10w

    Sheep

    A frayed rope around its neck
    All the grass it can eat
    A simple idle look in its eyes
    A body that's just waiting to die
    Just waiting to die
    Just waiting to die
    Tied up and fed
    And just waiting to die
    No powerful sheep stories
    Just a tired patience
    And a body that's just waiting to die
    ©scrallscripts

  • scrallscripts 10w

    Lightening and Thunder

    Come apart
    Bind your heart back together
    Come apart
    Hold it all together
    Over and over and over again
    That is what love is
    That is the lightening and thunder
    ©scrallscripts

  • scrallscripts 10w

    Times

    There are times I really want to make things better. I really do!!
    I believe, in these times with all my heart and all my being how I can turn things around.
    In these times I just want to hold you and make you feel how better I want things to be.
    Maybe I can pour all these feelings into you
    If only you could feel what I felt
    Then words would not be important
    And arguments,
    And tears,
    And wasted years would not be necessary.
    But you cannot feel what I feel.
    You cannot even pretend to.
    Because we both know, I stop at my feelings
    Because we both know I am all feelings and no action
    We know, without being told that I won't put in the work to make things better.
    ©scrallscripts

  • scrallscripts 10w

    Word Prompt:

    Write a 3 word micro-tale on Strange

    Read More

    Normal is strange