Writing Prompt
POEM STARTER
Write a poem about a window that is stuck open and can't be closed.
What does this window represent in the poem?
Writings
Killer
I struggle
Stuck to my seat beside the window
Eyes shut, but ear opened
Heart open and bruised
I canât stop
Hearing the words
Spilling through my open window
Like searching, dripping poison
Trying to find me
To hurt me
But I canât close it
I canât shut the window, itâs doesnât budge
Because maybe I deserve this
Iâm a creature made of filth
Disgusting, innocence runs from me
So I sit there, a...
Illegible Handwriting
_Cw: suicide _
_⢠_
She wrote her final note,
lying on her bed, beneath the windowâ
the one she wasnât yet aware
sheâd jump from.
The act wasnât planned,
but the pen under her pillow
and the wall beside her
seemed to call her hand.
She pressed ink into concrete,
scraped at the drywall,
ensuring that anyone who came after
would see the marks she left behind.
Satisfied with her work,
she tidied...
Window
Itâs the constant state of mind
Breathe in and out
The cold or warm air I might
Just sleep on the floor tonight
Begging for the closure
Thereâs times it falls over
But it gets up after an hour
And I hate how we called it âoursâ
Feel the cold air enter
And I shiver then flinch
When the warm air appears
Then I hide till it clears
Iâve waited years for you
To lead me on
For me to write
That I hat...
Half Of Me
She took half of me
The half that laughed when she fell
The half that was never bothered when people made fun of her
Or when her friends would leave her out
The half that was good
The half that I needed
She took it
I know sheâs there somewhere
Trying to find her way back to me
In the shadows of whom took her
She is trying to find the light
The light that let her in
That let in the full of her
The...
Window
My bones caught the chill, and I felt my quill still.
It was then, that I noticed the frosted window sill.
You had gone, and left my window wide open. Letting in the chilly November breeze that should have brought me to my knees. It had come steal my words unspoken.
The last autumn leaf fell, then chilly November turned into a brutal, and dreary December. It wasnât until the ice on my quill, an...
Still Time For Fun
I hide in my room, resting in the bed
Iâm hungered, I need to be fed
Iâm thirsty, I need a drink
Iâm depressed, I need to leave
Wasting away in this dim room
A breeze slugs in, imitating this gloom
I looked to my side, as the wind blows
Through that window that wonât close
Marching to the window
My feet dragging, my head low
I shove it down, to give it a shot
As I look down at the parking lot
I...
The Cycle of the Seasons
Donât close the window
You canât anyway.
Even if you wanted to
The breeze tickles your skin
Hear the rain pattering outside
Smell the sweetness of the rainy air
Thunder from the storms is loud
Donât be afraid, when the
Lightning strikes big and bold.
Table wood is damp with humidity
Sun beams blind your computer screen
Trees are filled with green leaves
Green turns to gold, amber, and blood or...
Bill Gates
O window stuck like a frozen operating system in '95
A portal for dust, bugs, pollen and sun
A pathway for the symphony of nature's sounds
Wind gusts and birds chirping you bring us
My eyes are the windows to the soul
With my eyes I look out the window to see the whole.
When the sensory input is overloaded and You just want the world closed
It's like a computer that froze
Windows won't shut down...
The Room
My mind is like a room.
Sometimes it feels like a prison,
Sometimes like a home.
And sometimes just another room,
Another place to be.
Thereâs a doorway in that room.
Sometimes the door is locked,
Sometimes it creaks open.
And sometimes I see itâs closed,
But know that I could flee.
Next to the door is a window.
Sometimes I look out of it,
Sometimes I donât bother.
And sometimes I stare for hour...
WindowsâŚ
Shut and then open.
Torn and then sealed.
Fought and then loved.
Yet the window to anger is jammed.
Stuck open, letting the cold creep in.
Anger comes and goes in wavesâŚ
A pattern too large for you to see.
Yet the window is- and always will be-
âŚopen.
âYou let your anger get the best of you. Itâs like a writhing demon within. You feel as though you are nothing without them,â the old lady bends ...