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[Poem] Amature Poetry...


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So dashing through the snow,

in a half-broken sled,

Over the fields we go,

crying all the way.

The snow is turning red,

I think I must be dead,

I find myself in the hospital with stitches on my head.

 

The version I heard first:

 

Dashing through the snow

on a pair of broken skis

over the hills we go

crashing into trees

the ground is turning red

I think I'm almost dead

Id rather spend Christmas eve resting my bed

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actually, me and my pal modded that one, though i still wanted to keep it. that cracked me up when my friend showed it to me :D

 

the actual version was:

So dashing through the snow,

in a half-broken sled,

Over the fields we go,

crying all the way.

The snow is turning red,

I think I'm half-dead,

I find myself in the hospital with santa on my bed

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Okay guys, here's a dumb little thing I did for school...its a riddle, and some literature knowlage is kinda needed to figure it out :D

 

 

Who am I?

Dare you guess?

Do you know?

Perhaps some clues shall inform the best…

 

My black wings beat

Against a darkening sky,

As I weave tales of beating hearts

And an old man’s eye.

 

Those tales of Fairyland,

So sweet, so pure!

There you shall find me,

Dwelling evermore.

 

Nor shall I forget,

My sweet Annabel Lee,

Or the perfect love we shared,

In a Kingdom by the Sea.

 

Or as I heard a heavenly song,

Even though in darkness I dwell,

I can still hear the song

Of the angel Israfel.

 

Or my beautiful Annie,

Thinking, as I lay on my bed,

That my soul has gone west,

To the place of the dead.

 

But lo! Hear the bells!

Brazen, Iron, Silver, Golden bells!

Men fall deep within the spell,

Of those magical tones of bells.

 

My tales have even fallen

In the Valley of the Shadow

In a knight’s valiant search

For the city of Eldorado.

 

Or through those several worlds

Oh, they all seem of dreams

But perhaps everything we see

Is simply a dream within a dream.

 

But who is that now,

Is it a god I see? Nay,

But ‘tis close,

‘Tis the beauteous Isadore.

 

Think you know me now?

No?

Perhaps I’ll introduce myself.

My name is Edgar Allen Poe.

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