Biography of Christina Shischell
I love music and poetry, I mostly listen to Classic Rock. My favorite poets are Edgar Allen Poe and Javan. I hate school, I hate most of my teachers. I like the band Pray for the Soul of Betty, some people call me crazy, but I would just say that I am different.
Christina Shischell's Works:
None yet, but I hope that I can get one published soon!
Christina Shischell Poems
Love Is A Lie.
Love is a Lie Love is painful Love is holding in your cries Love is tears falling down
The wind gently weeps as we all walk the same old road And we meet some who walked here before Some hiding in the shadows, some running freely in the light Some bearing heavy burdens and others bringing hope
Each new blow Is felt with a new pain A new sting Eating away at my heart
How delightful it would be If your heart was as sweet As your lips How profound it would be
I am so ashamed of this lie I just want to cry I am living on the dark side of the earth without you And the worst part is you never knew
You just happen to be beautiful And I just happen to be not quite enough But when I sleep I'll dream of you And that will just have to do..
The sun is setting In the El Paso horizon I'm smoke a lot
I Am (Not)
The wind blows.. I am surrounded by people Yet, without you, I still feel so alone
I gaze into the night, I wish could tear the stars right out of the sky, And bring them down to earth Illuminating the dark spaces of madness.
Hello. I want to open up my wrists Burn them closed
Passing familiar places I saw a ghost of myself Walking those streets years ago The taste of humidity, heat
Music to my ears My eyes Always looking out the windows At all the places I could be
I'll meet you at two Just like we always do
The wind gently weeps as we all walk the same old road
And we meet some who walked here before
Some hiding in the shadows, some running freely in the light
Some bearing heavy burdens and others bringing hope
And they spread there hope of change throughout each corner
Of this long and endless winding path
And the sound of bare feet pounding against a worn and trodden ground
Reached one man alone who heard a rhythm in the sound