6 Word Poem Novels & Stories

Wоuld thеіr words hold ѕо much соnvісtіоn? I checked the bооk оut, nоt ѕаtіѕfіеd wіth juѕt rеаdіng оnсе, wіth the nееd tо devour each poem оvеr and over аgаіn. It was thаt particular poem that stayed wіth mе, thе wоrdѕ tоuсhеd mе ѕо dеер. I wаntеd to memorise еасh аnd еvеrу lіnе so іt wоuld remain wіth mе forever.

I knew Dean would only be satisfied seeing me humiliated like this. As the alcohol churned in my stomach, the words I meant to say—words pleading for help—died on my lips. Instead, I said, "We will find a way to pay off our family's debts, Mr. Potter. If you don't want to give us new projects, that's fine." Fred snapped back to attention, his anger flaring as he slapped me hard across the face. "Do you even realize what you're saying? Without Potter Enterprise, the Byrds are finished! How are you going to repay those debts?

she says before walking out. I’m not family. Nothing is going on with King and me. Sighing, I walk to the class and sit down. I stop when I see the paper, the sketch, and the poem on it. The sketch is of an eye, with the reflection of a person walking in it. I begin to read the poem. A hundred words Doesn't speak enough A thousands stories Doesn't tell enough A single look, tells so much A lifetime of stories A lifetime of pain Emotions hidden within

Sky says as she jesters with her hands to me. I took a couple of deep breaths before I began to read my poem out loud. Gathering my nerves before I speak. Lifeless Lost and alone left empty without a home. Watching as the wind blows, chattering through hollow bones. Words are nothing but a sound cracking and breaking with each bound. A girl once set to sore left with oozing pores, born in a world torn in two. Amber eyes stare into the starry skies, locks of blonde hair ripped from a head now bare. A face that once held so much grace, revealing split flesh tattered like mesh. Words are nothing but a sound cracking and breaking with each bound. Tears shed out of so many fears, crying in the da

You should see hers. He reads it out, in a voice worthy of Television, as though he were standing before an audience. The poet can be poem-less. The writer, word-less And the warrior sword-less. With you, I am not lovel— "Okay, " I say "that's enough for one day.".

"Twinkling spoons in a teapot's dream, Jellyfish waltz in a cosmic stream. Pickles hummed a secret rhyme, Moonbeams whispered cheese and thyme. Penguins danced on rainbow clouds, Unicorn whispers in mushroom crowds. Bananas wore polka dot shoes, Stars played chess, swapping hues. Toasters sang opera in the key of green, Elephants tap-danced on a trampoline. Butterflies knitted socks for the moon, Balloons recited a backwards cartoon. In a world where logic takes a break, Nonsense reigns, a merry mindquake. A symphony of chaos, oh what a treat, In this realm of whimsy, where absurdities meet." The smile on her face was oddly serene as she sang, her eyes gleaming with an enigmatic gleam. The w

I wanted to outshine other kids and show that I was a future alpha, and hence, I chose to write a rhyming poem while everyone else stuck with writing an essay. And as I was extremely eager, I volunteered to go first, unlike other children who were reluctant to go up on the stage. I still recall the embarrassment I've felt, the tears I've shed, and the laughter of other children when they laughed at me after I've finished reciting my poem. That's because what I wrote was cringe and I used certain words I had only heard and had no idea what they meant. One such word was 'fúck'. Yeah, fuck.

“Chloe knew a poem? Just like that?” “Well, it was about a shelf on her ice-cream cone,” Sarah said with a laugh. “Grace was the real star though. She couldn’t recite it, but she said she liked the one with ‘a bunch of made-up words.’ He knew instantly she was talking about ‘Jabberwocky,’ which he then did recite by heart in full.”

------------ "And I pick myself up And I dust off the words You tried to stick me with 'Cause I know words are words Angry little vowels And conscientious letters Surrounded by derogatory question marks And accusatory exclamations. And at the end of the day I remember words are power (But only power if you believe them) So I pick my vowels and my letters And I stick myself with my own word: Strong I am Strong.." -----Raven White

‎ ‎Without waking. ‎ ‎The light is shining. ‎ ‎Without shining. ‎ ‎The love is loving. ‎ ‎Without loving. ‎ ‎The being is being. ‎ ‎Without being. ‎ ‎Only this. ‎ ‎The light that is. ‎