Pensive-Brony

There are songs I can't listen to Television shows I can't watch Experiences I can't do again This is of my own volition I lost my filter somewhere along this ride I was unwilling to take I am aware of the consequences but I'm always willing to accept them I've become stronger I can bear you, and I can bear her, them But I can't bear myself

You wanted to see me go For petty reasons, the teenager's way There's an easy way to do it, you figured, Since I certainly couldn't stay The form of which is far more great Then death by suspense or surprise The path you chose for me is self-destruction In which you assured my demise

A deep red –the color that was spilled flippantly amongst the threads that weaved together to synthesize a familiar formation of domestic carpeting. The color itself stood out amongst the beige fibers visibly, and due to its liquid state, it stubbornly infiltrated the fibers, effectively remaining there permanently. Immersed within her own gratification, Sophie took out her old rag and wiped the used knife clean. One kill, that was all. One kill would suffice to ease her corrupt conscience, or in kinder terms, poignant curiosity. The manner of death would certainly attract the attention of the police, but Sophie was well aware of their

Compromise at every turn No one wants to hear your words Interrupted all the time Your pity isn't worth a dime. Sustaining life with just sensation Welcome all, our petty nation. Wisdom bestowed to those who know: Wisdom's found where experience flows And after everything in life Remember it was worth the strife And every headache they have granted Makes the idea well worth planted And now I realize in this ending It's only principle I'm defending Follow blindly down this road Where conscience tells you where to go Knowledge passed in realization Prior experience and specialization That's something a freshman learned It's m

The Life of an Averted Teenage Girl I was never average. At least, I don't believe so. On second thought, that statement comes off too pretentious. Let me rephrase. "Average", as far as the word, isn't something that can be so easily defined. My definition includes someone who engages in regular activities such as sports and other activities with friends. Someone who acts like the rest of society and doesn't question a "sure thing". Sure, I participate in events with my closest friends; I just never conformed to an apparent social category or status, and I don't think about the largest of topics or the smallest of issues the same as the "ave

-August 28, 1863 Today, there was an advertisement in the local paper about confederate rights. It proclaimed statements such as "It's our choice! Our independence!" and "Why change things now?" Statements like these, especially ones displaying such propaganda, usually don't convince me to sympathize, or even feel such things about my country. I wasn't much of a patriot. Though, upon pondering the situation, it occurred to me, this was not unlike our victory for independence over Britain. We weren't going to let some unjust law change our way of living; it's always been like this and we've always got along fine. The war against Britain was u

Writing this poem has got me to pacing, Writing a poem, can't use proper spacing, I don't write about you and all that you do, It's usually about me and the love I see. We've been friends for all of eight years, We've speculated all, and each other's fears. You play the bass drum in winter percussion, Though I think we've already had this discussion. Your ADHD can often effect your mood, And you like macaroni, it's your favorite food. Out for a bargain, it's always you, Saving money, it can be a good thing, too. All about you, is what your style portrays, You won't be influenced, not in all of your days. You have many friends

Marching band is life... ...so am I dead for half the year? Possibly. Save me, music! The anticipation The notes; after a while, they seem to be objects In the air Muscles adjusted to my instrument I pick it up They fall into place Keep in step. Left...left...left it echoes Past fears melt as I reach the field I know what I'm doing. Nothing matters. The drum major is my eye's focus. The sound is my ear's. And the step is my feet's. Every piece of my body & soul is on the field. Close the show Crowd cheering Band, turn! Marching band is life... ...so am I dead for half the year? Possibly. Save me, save me, music!