I've often found that the more you try to think of something to say about yourself, the harder it is to do. So, like all great things, I shall start at the beginning and work my way from there.
I was born in Michigan, where I lived almost exactly eighteen years of my life. Raised out in the middle of the country, there were many places to inspire a child's imagination to greater heights. ... more »
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Shiloh Thompson Poems
Rain, rain, fall today, Wash away my debts to pay,
A Prayer In A Moment Of Weakness
My heart says one thing, But my head says another Who would think something Like this would happen again?
Don't Be Fooled
I won’t be fooled again, By false promises of friendship, Never again trusting blindly, In those who sugar coat their lies.
I Miss My Friend
*Author's Note* I think I'm losing my best friend because we are both moving on into different relationships. Its a sad thing to see us drifting apart after we went though so much together. He is one of my greatest inspirations, and I hate to lose someone who was so wonderful to me. But I don't know how to say it to him. A different kind of heartbreak,
Not Another Teenage Stereotype Statistic
I don’t look like the other girls, Not dressing in Hollister and AE, Never shopping at Abercrombie & Fitch, Could never afford to pay that much,
Ode To Friends
*Author Note* This suddenly popped into my head. I've been going through some rebirth feelings right now with starting over in a new state. I went through some pretty rough stuff before the move, and so it is all coming out in what one of my friends would call an 'emo' manner... No matter, I enjoy writing, so if my poems seem a little redundant, that's why. Thanks! Anger and passion Hate wells up
Tall, yet unimposing, You stood in my doorway, A knight in shining denim, Bearing a gift of Chinese food,
*Author Note* One of my favorite things to do is curl up in my aunt's library over Thanksgiving with a book of prose or poetry and satisfy my literary cravings. A dusky ambience full of silent laughter,
Insomnia Of The Writer
Typing furiously upon her keyboard, This insomnia gathering itself tighter, No rest for the weary poet, As she works deep into the night.
An Eulogy For The Man That Cared
Pictures say more than a thousand words, Agony etched in every line of my soul, With every snapshot, another piece of me dies, Time not healing, only causing more pain.
Thoughts crowding an already cluttered mind, As sleep once more eludes the weary, Bitter desperation once again surfacing, Reminding me of carefully placed barbs,
The Worker's Thoughts
A young man in a greasy city café, Wiping down tables and putting up chairs, Lost as his thoughts begin to stray, Explaining the smile he softly wears.
Beaten down Afraid to live To be myself Society says no
Lonely wind whistles past My window, reminding me Of a time when I wasn’t so Alone.
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
Rain, rain, fall today,
Wash away my debts to pay,
Cleanse me of my sins I pray,
Rain, rain, fall away.
Rain, rain, fall away,
Wash away the blood today,
Wake us from this dream I say,
Rain, rain, here to stay.
Rain, rain, here to stay,
Keep the sin of hate at bay,
Love is coming here to stay,
Rain, rain, fall today.