BroKen-GlaSSHeArT

My name is Greta. I have been writing poetry for roughly six years, maybe more. I am 17 and I act older than most kids my age. I am very open and I tend to be a bit unpredictable. I am a deep person and I love having a good think. I may get carried away but whatever I do I pour my heart into it On a scale of the world I have faced very few tragedies. However several events have affected me; grandmother dying, losing hamsters, break-ups, and all that silly teen angst. My siblings are all older and the stuff they went through made me old for my age. I get very elaborate with my art and writing and I think that this site would without a doubt make me a better writer and teach me endurance.

My writing style is deep and it can sometimes be rather vague. My writing is usually rather heavy and moody; in general I tend to write rather darkly. Even my neutral poems would come out sad. In truth I believe some of my most depressing stuff is indeed my best. I am strong believer in dark beauty. I believe that without great suffering we could not have great happiness. Whatever shit happens in this life it’s worth it in the end. Some of our darkest days make us feel most alive. And most of all no suffering is ever in vain. It’s a part of life with a beauty all its own and sometimes it feels good just to get your angst out and get angry or give in to despair. Granted I am more confident and positive than I used to be a year ago in general, but I still believe that there is something sacred and beautiful about tears. Out of pain we find acceptance and the will to make our dreams not only our hope but our reality. Strife separates the weak from the strong. Hearts may break but if you believe enough you will see that we always have a choice and that there is no end save death. We live for the moments that take our breathe away.

This is a sample. It’s a poem I wrote a while ago but I feel it represents my capabilities really well. It’s called “Ghost”.

Lights in the city sky,
Like a moth they fly,
Inside they wonder why,
They feel so dead,
While going through the motion,
Of feeling alive.

Waking up alone,
On the top of the building,
Here the stars are faded,
From the city lights,
We are blind to such sights,
In a world so jaded.

BroKen-GlaSSHeArT's Works

Poetry (Love)	2006-06-10	A thousand ways to bleed
Poetry (Tribute)	2006-06-10	Thinking of you
Poetry (Philosophical)	2006-06-12	shiny penny
Poetry (Reflective)	2006-06-26	mortality
Poetry (Reflective)	2006-06-29	Shattering divine Illusion
Poetry (Adult)	2006-07-08	Memory remains
Poetry (Reflective)	2006-07-17	Rose gardens never were good enough for you
Poetry (Horror)	2006-07-17	Sun glinting on a smoking gun
Poetry (Horror)	2006-07-19	Never trust the smile of a stranger
Poetry (Depressed)	2006-07-19	Ink bleeding through paper thin composure
Poetry (Erotica)	2006-07-24	Love is salty on your skin
Poetry (Adult)	2006-07-25	Deflowered roses ask no names
Poetry (Depressed)	2006-07-27	A fate worst than death
Poetry (Adult)	2006-07-28	Getting over your aftertaste
Poetry (Erotica)	2006-08-16	Positions are available
Poetry (Philosophical)	2006-08-19	Kissing rattle snakes with pretty eyes
Poetry (Philosophical)	2006-10-24	May i have your attention (whore)
Poetry (Philosophical)	2007-05-09	Picture Preturbed

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