Pretty Ugly Poem Novels & Stories

“Every time I get close, I hear someone else’s version in my head. Headlines. Comments. Him.” “Him which?” she says. “We have a collection now.” “All of them,” I say. She comes closer and nudges a balled‑up page with her foot. “Need a trash editor?” she asks. “I’m great at telling people what sucks.” I half‑smile. “I’m making it too pretty,” I admit. “Keep dressing it up in metaphors, and it starts sounding like every other song I’ve written about devils and cages.” “So stop,” she says. “Ugly it up.”

Acting like a jealous boyfriend or a jumpy security guard was going to draw way too much attention to us. Guy—because of course Mr. Pretentious had a pretentious name, too—cleared his throat. “Today it’s a poem.” The beautiful boy with a metal-clasped nose, Whose skin is like peaches and cream, I wonder if the beautiful boy knows, I would love to make him mine.

To stand apart, in my own right, To bask in my own simple light. But until then, I linger here, A shadow filled with silent tears.” I gasped, and sat up from the bed. Tears streamed down my face. At first was afraid, wondering where I was but then slowly what happened last night started to come back to me. That poem was shit! What the fuck is my subconscious doing by feeding me poetry like I don't already know my life is dim and useless.

Her departure has been as prompt as her sporadic entry. I'm about to have dinner, but just at that moment his impertinent appearance stops me. I see him in the eyes, that deep look that turns anyone to ashes, burns me voraciously. I seriously notice him, he is so handsome, I don't find a single flaw in his physique, all the imperfections seem to be inside him, he is like a beautiful fruit but rotten inside.

It”s just an office. Sate... I’ll take that. And I turn it into sate restaurant. Just for you. Sate... Oh, I love you. Sate... Oh sate... (Seriously, writing such a poem makes me starving.) Kartika does read it with a whole of her soul. “Whoa! What an amazing performance!!” Alfi exclaimed admiring her. “Yeah!” Herman added. Kartika is chuckling and strokes her hair as she’s blushing.

“ Okay,’’ the teacher signaled the people who were clapping at her poem before handing over my book. DEMI GOD Ye god of beauty, Ooh Israelite god lost in earth Ye is full of walking metaphors and perfections Your breath oozes love and makes beautiful flowers to blush Like a virgin caught in a midnight dance with bachelors Thou eyes glow like molten lave and hot coals, healing broken hearts. The girl finished reading my book and the whole class kept quiet, this was a big disappointment. The poem was only supposed to be one stanza, about love. The bully turned around and looked at my seat with a blank expression, he seemed confused, wasn’t it obvious, it was a poem that I had written for him.

I will write a poem and I'll read it to Mom tomorrow," I answered. The days arrived calm and breezing, Everybody was bustling from travelling, Then you came to me without and hesitations, Giving me friendly and adorable expressions. The days were bright and shining for a while, And here you are looking at me with a smile, You always make me a way to catch my attention, Congratulations! You are now my immersion. The days proceeded moody and leaves were falling, Yet you are still there to keep me aspiring, Those sleepless nights that you showed my worth, I thought you were truly down to earth, The days come cold, Same as your heart's constantly changing, You eventually manifested your true col

It was surprising our Alpha and Luna had let her move there, considering she was very much human. Mrs. Juniper absolutely adored poetry, mostly the classics. I’d never forget the endless headaches I suffered trying to decipher what Shakespeare, Robert Frost, and Alfred Tennyson were trying to convey. Why poets had to make such simple lessons so confusing was beyond me. Why did they have to use pretty words to convey truth? ‘This doesn’t seem to be so hard.’ Rayna countered, murmuring the words to the poem in my head. ‘It mentions beasts twice, which has to be the bulls, right?’

but this time they were out of happiness "I can't understand him..is he born to make me cry??" streetlight was looking like a spotlight on her...she was glowing in it...and suddenly a person with a speed of light came her side....he was so fast that her hair came on her face..only his eyes were to be seen..those blue eyes..as deep as ocean..as glowing as light of stars..enough to scare anyone and make anyone fall in them.. Forget urslef in my arms.. Forget urslef in my words.. I want to say all these things to you..

He recited the poem to Juste and Chastine, all from memory: “root of red, drool of flesh, tall as pillar stem of brown, crown of thorns, revealed on pyre leaf of green, thick of water, at one’s behest petal of white, rise of giants, at peaceful rest seed of black, depths of earth, one in all.” Maxill slowly opened his eyes. He saw Juste and Chastine’s face, who were both amazed and fascinated at Maxill’s recitation of Juste’s mom’s poem. The bloodhunt quickly flicked his finger so the two would break free from their mesmerizing spell.