What am I?
What beauty do these dying, falling,
Red, burning leaves have for me?
Can i make the mistake of lying,
Under the stars, worries destroyed?
Or am I doomed to be a ruby blue killer,
The leaves falling like snow around my soft form?

I am what you see,
Ruby blue lips pressed against the flesh,
Of my kill.
If you can see me,
Then am I really invisible to you?
Or am I a dead man's lover?
A widow, of sorts?

If you can see,
The sun shining,
Do you feel scared?
Hunted?
For I am a predator,
Wild and free.
I am Smilodon

Hey, community! I thought... why not make a coloring book of all your cool drawings? Just post here! :3

Yeah. I've been so busy with school that I haven't had time for my favorite community ever. I'll be back -- keep me posted -- feel free to chat when I'm on MSN... All that jazz. I don't mean to do this -- it may just be something about fall...

I'm on the very edge
The cliff so high
That there would be no return
It as thin as ice
As is slowly melting
And somehow I smile
Of when I think it can end
That this life that I have been given
Can be ended
To no longer hear
The words
A mother speaks
To her child
That her own flesh and blood is a waste

A waste she says
How refreshing to know
The one support I counted on
Can easily say such things
It puts things in perspective
And makes one resent themselves

Is it so bad to want to die
To find peace in the beyond
To no longer hear those words
Be spoken
No more sunsets
No stargazing
Just utter piece
Would it be so bad to stay on this cliff
And await
The sealed fate
It holds

Drabble of semi-importance

This is all so, new and so strange to me.These others show love and affection to one another.It makes my heart burn to watch,and turn around to see that no one is there to give me such tender encouragement.No parents to speak of,no lover to be seen that I can call my own.Just a locket with the letter F and a quote burned into my memory ever since I was a fawn.To thine own self be true is what I was told and have repeated to myself over the years.


I wander this forest and come across many other deer only one other has greated me.And now she is gone.Am I an outcast or do I dispease others with my prescence.The name I was given was Maria.It is said my father named me,but I have yet to know his.My mother called me Fancy for it pained her to remember my father in any way.

I want to trust,I want to love,but can I are there others willing to except me.My legs have taken me to this great old oak while I was lost in thought.I examine the tree with admiration.So big and strong it has stayed here for so long.I let out a sigh and curl up inside the little cave inside.And close my eyes to thine own self be true runs though my mind before I sleep.