Born in Denison, Tx but lived in Oklahoma since 8 years old. I usually only write when I'm upset because it makes me feel better, so it might all be pretty depressing, honestly. I'm not depressed all the time though hahha, so don't think I'm just a mope. more »
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courtney metcalf Poems
I Am the Media
In this place, we dream a dream. A place society can never reach. We weave these lies, and they chase it. All because the media made it. They waste their chances, waste their lives. They'll climb the rope,
A New Song
Sing me the song of your troubles And I shall weep mine We'll have an album wrote In a short amount of time
Thoughts Through the Smoke
With every hit, the pain fades away, and she is numb again for yet another day. He dissapears, with the thick of the smoke. He disapears, and her chains are broke.
They Say I'm Like You
They say I'm like you I wouldn't know Sometimes I see you Most times I don't
He pulls me back to bed Asks me not to go Intoxicated by love I couldn't say no
I don't know why I ever gave you my love. I guess I just wanted to believe in someone. That was enough. To throw all my trust into someone
Cirle of Life
Culture changing, shifting Evolving, revolving One circle of society
Ocean Indefinite, blue Adventuring, cruising, tanning Seashells, Sand, Sunshine
Year after year, you'll find me here When what I want most is leave. But years pass by, and man, they fly However, despite my failed efforts, I do believe...
For he calls me beautiful, even when I look gross...which I will never understand. And he see's what I am not: Perfect. How does he do this? That, I do not know. But beautiful... What are the qualifications? And then it hits me and I am no longer feeling so special. For anything can contain beauty. From the blood on a killer's hands, his eyes gleaming with pride. To the dirt we walk upon, in which we end up buried in.
It Can't Rain All The Time
The deeper the thought, the deeper the cut I don’t know the reason I really don’t know
My thoughts are my own In my head, unheard, unknown A superpower
The Fairytale That Came Alive
He has this glow, emitting from his soul A light that few will ever even spark He dreams in gold, his thoughts are bold A smile brightening up my dark
Farewell For Now
I'll miss the smile that fixed my day. The kiss on my cheek that made it all okay. The jokes that drove away all the pain and fears. The talks that took away my tears.
Comments about courtney metcalf
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
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(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
I Am the Media
In this place, we dream a dream. A place society can never reach.
We weave these lies, and they chase it. All because the
media made it. They waste their chances, waste
their lives. They'll climb the rope,
and we'll cut the tie.
Down, down. They