Category: Emily Liang

Going Home

Heading home is likePlunging into a pool of memoriesThe old photos, the dusty bike,Makes one smile, unwittingly As a child,I bet I was very wildI sat in my crib, laughingParading my toothless grin, flailingChubby arms, spilling food everywhereLike a sprinkler, targets anywhere My first prom is forever framed,In a golden, rosette border, somewhere far awaySparkling

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The Cell Phone

Pitter patter,Don’t look out of the window, childThe world has gone wild.For that isn’t the sound of rain.Those are fingers sprinting on the fast lane.It is not in a stadium.The lane is on the cell phone screen.No victor on the podium,It’s just a bunch of texting teens.I must warn you before I proceed.That child, the

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Winter’s History

When the Snow Queen decides to turn her wristTo take a peek at her watchShe exclaims ‘It’s time’, and gently releaseThe light mist, cascading a slow and chilly freezeThe auburn Earth decked with frothy frostThen, the blooms of snow come waltzing downAll the way downstairs, right from heaven to townLike it’s raining dandelion seedsPure, jolly

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I saw upon the television, a 7 year-old girlDonning a puffy lilac dress with voluminous curlsHer innocent eyes may speak a thousand wordsBut those that drip from her mouth are far worse“Granny says, in life as long as you get a good manThen you are definitely in good hands.”My blood boils as hot as the

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Of The Seven Deadly Sins- -Greed

The piercing, glimmeringDrop of lust, gingerly dangling,From the corner of smoky eyes,It paints the snow-hued sclera nitty-gritty green,With envy, with something more than theGold strewn across a jewel studded desk.They pile up, barely enough to feed the hungerWithin, it morphs into a surmount of anger,Of something sinking its teeth into soft tender flesh,The scorching, excruciating

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Candy,The velvet sweetness,Of sugarcane fibre that’s full of richness.Be wary though,Too much candy can hurt you thorough. Candy,The devil’s mallet,The cause of the hole in your wallet.Candies are dangerous,Try at your own risk. Don’t say I never warned youYou were to obstinate to be warnedIf you’re not wary,You’ll be sorry.

The Grand Confusion

Do you define it as courage?Or is it a kind of outrageSparking off the blood-hued flaresIgniting all particles of wrath present in the airCurses etched on the strips of little paperNailed into the cloth flesh of gnarled voodoo peopleAs the fire nibbles it up, leaving the edges grilled and charred.Or does it spread a smile

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