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About Literature / Hobbyist WednesdayFemale/United States Group :iconbonds-through-blood: Bonds-through-Blood
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A Gardener is only as good as his garden,
or that’s what they say.
A flower is only as beautiful
as its chary and redolent petals, so they say

This Gardener had only one refulgent flower,
he treated this flower like it were more precious than gold.
Other Gardeners had bucolic fields of various flowers,
all had different petals, vines, and stems.

This Gardener only gave the very best fertilizer to his
only flower and put it only in the prettiest flower pot he could find.
The other gardeners were dilettantes in flower care,
and did not treat them as wonderfully as they should.

This Gardeners flower was happy as could be,
the other flowers were jealous and were unhappy.
This Gardeners flower shown the most refulgent colors in the light,
the other flowers had the same paltry colors and brightness.
This Gardener kept his one flower even when it wilted,
The other Gardeners vacillated away their flowers when they wilted.
The other flowers were unremittingly  replaced by others,
But this gardener, no matter what, stayed true to his one flower.

The other gardeners tried to convince our gardener to get more flowers,
everytime he refused, they called him a fool.
This Gardener replied with,
If you truly love the beauty of something then you should
nourish it and help it reach its full potential instead of replacing it with
something less beautiful when it suits you.
The Gardener and his flower
An Allegoric and Symbolic poem I had to do for my Creative writing.
My job is to make you people happy,
make you laugh and smile.
I do the same as you,
but not quite as realistically as you.

My job is to make you happy,
and deal with your children when they cry.
I have children just like you, you know,
I hate to see them cry just like you.

My job is to make myself happy,
but when I’m on my shift that is no longer my job.
My name isn’t even my real one,
but you don’t know that just like I don’t know yours.

My job is to wear this painted smile,
my job is to make you people happy.
But I’m not happy, and neither are you,
so you take it out on me, even when I’m trying my best.

I must appear to be the happiest person,
the happiest person in the room.
I lighten the mood,
and give you people what you want.
Painted Smile
An Allegoric and Symbolic poem about a clown and his job that he hates. I had to do this for Creative writing.
       There are people out there in this vast expanse of planet that are fans, fans of nothing though they claim they are fans of something. They follow in line behind the Juggernaut of fans of something when they know nothing. They claim to know this something like it was everything but when they are asked of the something the reality of it all is nothing. They are in the lowest echelon of the arrant fans and when they claim to know the something but know nothing they can end up in a rather exacerbated situation as they frantically try to recant their paucity statement on their knowledge of the something that is really nothing. Once their fraud is revealed and the fan of nothing beings to claim in a fatuous manner that they have been with the something before it was a big something. And after gives alleged remarks that the other is the one who is wrong and they themselves are right.
       And so Ladies and gentlemen this is the fan of nothing’s rouse, a circle of idiocy and bad information. Even the knowing of the nothing fans people still join up with them in their small squads to try and fool the masses of something fans and their fellows. Ultimately the nothing’s are smashed into what they are, nothing, by the somethings.
       But when I tell you that isn’t it ironic how that is the whole world’s circle? The something people  see something wrong with the nothing people so they treat them like how they label and see them, nothing. All because of how they plot their courses and how they try to fit in. But what if the somethings are really nothing's’ as well? What if there is no something and there is no nothing? That all of this is just one big delusion that a book of standards shrouded over all of us?
Fan of nothing
I did this short story for my creative writing, it is supposed to be both Satire and Ironic. please let me know what you all think what parts are Satire and which are Ironic. I would also love to hear what you all think.
       Hello! My name is Justin, I’m about 5ft 9in and I’m 15 years old. I have an interesting story for you today of when me and my 35 year old mother moved into a small one story home in a small town in Illinois. Before the move me and my mother, Marleine, were having some troubles with my dad. My parents had divorced a year and half prior before the move and my dad was having troubles with swallowing down his reality down to the day when my mother said she felt it would safer if we moved away from him before something happened.
I understood why for the most part, the indigent to move away but, I wasn’t all that happy. Now given I was not the hot shot of the school but I had enough friends to say I atleast had a small group and have the ability to be convivial in eachothers company. Beyond my group of coterie I really didn’t have any real attachment to the town I lived in before the move, even if it was the only place I’ve ever lived in.
It took us about a month to move in and find the right house, my mother had found an older house on the smaller side, which given there would only be two of us there it was the right size for us and all our things. The house was an off white with the porch posts, windows, and stairway rails a dark mahogany. The roof looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in sometime because of the inordinate of leaves and twigs on it. The main door was made of solid dark oak with a twisted golden latch handle. The handle was chipping its cheap fake gold painted exterior and the latch was starting to rust. To match the door looked like it had deep claw marks on the bottom of it, the kind the grudge would have left on walls or ceilings as she spun her head and chased after you like a crab with a twisted neck. “Maybe they had a dog” my mother said, she seemed a little off put by the claw marks and I guess she was trying to put some sense to it. She was a jumpy lady after all, so to kind of reassure her I added “Must have been a small angry dog”, she nodded then shrugged it off and told me to go look around while she started moving stuff in.
The house sat on an acre plot of land that was well forested with pines and oaks, it had an illusory feel that made it seem like I should be looking for Terabithia. In any case, I began to meander around the house, peeking in through the dusty and spider webbed windows. The house had no doubt sat for awhile and it made me ever more curious as to what had happened, if anything. Seeing how old places always have some sort of old tale about the string of previous owners, like their kid would lick toads and the mother and father did nothing but fight. You know crazy stuff like that. Upon rounding onto the west side of the house I found an old bolted door that had rusted latches, moldy decrepit wood and crumbling cement it angled up to the sky and sunk deep into the earth so, as any would think, it’s a cellar door. I rushed to go and find my mother because I didn’t recall my mom telling me about us having a cellar.
My mother seemed as confused and interested as I was and found it to be most felicitous to have me check it out with a flashlight without any sort of demur. “Tell me what you find kiddo!” my mother said as I rushed back to the old door. I practically jettisoned the decrepit old door like it was a picayune piece of styrofoam taped to a wall. When I looked down into the dark foreboding entrance of the cellar I got a sense of eeriness that would make any regular person’s skin crawl. Through the eerie feeling I picked up my flashlight and clicked it on as I began my effrontery descent down the cemented stairway. The air was dense and had a particular musk to it, like that of a cave, it felt about as cold as one to. I flicked my flashlight about the cellar with swift and sturdy swipes to what I could. If there was anything to see.
As I lurked about underneath the house I could hear the creaks and cracks of my mother walking on the old wooden planks on the floors above. They groaned and creaked as if they were trying to speak out in agony from years of neglect and abandonment. With every creak I grew more nerved, and I wasn’t too sure as to why. I knew what was going on, my mother was moving things into an old house and I was simply hearing her move about above me. Once I had made it to the center of the basement I finally found something, a seemingly new wind up music box. It was chestnut brown with a glossy finish, golden celtic knots embellished the top edges of the box, on each corner were fake dark green crystals, on the center top of the box was a name written in Lucida blackletter scripting in red that read “Vattic”, finally there was a silver skeleton key that acted as the winding mechanism on the back side of the box.
I furtively picked up the music box and wound it up. With every wind I felt the growing sense of being watched. I stopped my winding as I paused to look around behind me to make sure my suspicions were just that, suspicions. After somewhat satisfying myself in seeing that there was no one else down here but me I looked back at the box, that’s when I saw it. Or I should say her.  
I lowered the box back where I found it, I did this slowly and my gaze never left the girl. She was about 4.5ft tall, had the stature of a small child, her cheeks were pudgy, large widened eyes that had the color of the deepest sea, skin as fair as milk, long hair thickly wavy and had the color of chocolate and burgandy. I looked her over and it took my mind a minute to process if she was actually there or not. As i looked her over more I noticed she was wearing a knee length, pale blue silk laden dress, the skirt was wavy like that of flower petals, the ends had white bands that bordered the bottom of her sleeves, skirt and neck. The shoulders of the dress were poofy, the dress had a neck collar that hugged her delicate petite neck comfortably. She smiled at me as she looked up at me with her wide eyes.
I froze as she stared at me, I wasn’t sure to be scared or not. She pressed her forefinger to her lips before she skipped off into the darkness of the cellar. Once she was gone I ran out the cellar to go find my mother. My heart was racing, I wasn’t sure if it was from the girl or from running. As I panted I tried explaining the little girl to my mother, in my attempt to explain the child I started dragging my mother to the basement. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t crazy, by having my mother see her too. When we got the cellar I walked her to where the music box was. Where it WAS.
I stumbled over my words as I tried to tell her that there really was a music box and a girl. She shook her head with a sigh, told me I was just seeing things then climbed the cellar steps back up to the entrance and went back to moving us in. I watched her, I stood there looking at the steps long after she had left. What arose from the silence next was a little girls giggle. It sent chills up my spine and goosebumps across my whole body.
After the giggle subsided I slowly turned around, there she was. Smiling at me as if to show her pleasure in my displeasure. She slowly shook her head as she crept closer to me, like a lion creeping in for a kill. She got ever closer, I stood there in all my horror and confusion. “Y..You aren’t real..” I managed to squeak out of my tightened throat. She giggled at me “I was” The girl responded “but much like the music box my family didn’t want me anymore.” she continued on, she had stopped creeping and was now 3 feet in front of me. I could feel my heart about to burst inside of my chest as I stared at the little girl. “What do you mean?” I asked, my voice cracked as I tried to seem calm. “My father, in a sense, was Misanthropic and all he did was despise me, said I was too noisy and bothersome. I was nothing but a distraction” She said with a sigh. “I just wanted someone to play with, none of the kids liked me and my parents were always busy.” I could hear the loneliness in her voice and see the pain in her eyes as she spoke. “But that’s ok because now you’re here, Justin!” She smiled in delight and her whole mood seemed to brighten as she said that small sentence. But what set me off was that she knew my name and I had never told her my name.
“H.. How do you know my name?” I manage to choke out.
“I heard your mother say it” she replied simply, I could feel my soul grow cold and my heart quiver, she had been watching me. But why was it only now that I could see her in the cellar, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. “Leave me alone!” I yelled as I bolted out of the cellar, I heard her laugh as I ran.
Once I left the cellar I ran into my home and started to help my mother, I just wanted to forget what I saw and what I was told. Once me and my mother got all the boxes and out beds in I started to look around the inner home some. I found the main door to the cellar, I asked my mom if we could put a lock on it and she just told me I was being paranoid and went back to setting up the kitchen. I pleaded but she still said no.
When night came I sat in my bed staring blankly at the ceilings and walls of my new room, I never quite slept well on the first week or so in a new home. I jumped at every crack and creak that the old house made. In my listening I just faintly heard the tunes of a music box. The tune was melodically beautiful but haunting, I knew she was down there. The thought chilled me to my core, I didn’t know what she wanted me for but I’m not sure I wanted to know. I sat there in the darkness, my mind and heart raced as I internally panicked. The melody grew louder as it was accompanied by little child-like footsteps. As a shadow reached my door the tune stopped, seemingly at the same time my heart about did. I sat stone still  for what seemed like ages before I heard three soft knocks.
“You know I’m here Justin” The girl spoke softly, I heard her set her music box down.
“we’re gonna have so much fun together!” she squealed with glee “Let me in you know I’m really starving, for some company, I’m lonely. Open up the door and come play with me” she said as she creaked the door open. I think I blacked out after the door opened, I can’t remember what happened after that but my mother said I woke up screaming. To this day I have no recollection of what happened, my mother put me in therapy and the doctor gave me medication and a journal, they think I’m crazy… But I’m not!... I’m not crazy...
I did this for an English assignment and I figured you all would enjoy this "Spooky" little creation. Please give me your input!
    So as the title suggests, I have got a new chat room (The old one was terminated)! I'm pleased to say this, name is Wednesday'sWorld and as usual the link to it is underneath the Slenderman! In case you have not seen said Slendy he is in my Bio and the link is underneath his feet. I have already put in Members, which is Pretty much Everyone in my DA family and some more.

Founders: :iconshadowonthewall22: :iconwednesday22:
Operators: :iconkatanadiver: :iconarucard12:
Members: :iconblackopsreznov: :iconfierywarrior46: :iconkano-20: :iconkatnhorseluv: :iconlove--and--war: :iconmorganjfk: :icontherpggamer17: :iconxdkillerwafflezxd:

If any of you are in my chat room and I am not there but I know you're there I will try my best to Get one of my Operators in there. There is no password and No limits to posting if you are a member. However if you are a  Guest then you have a limit to 20 things of each of what you can post. This is pictures, smilies, Emoticons, Thumbs, Avatars, Websites, and objects. Everyone who is not a founder or operator can be demoted and even banned. Please don't make me have to ban someone... Had to do that in my last one... Not fun.. So please! Don't be a douche-canoe! Especially to my operators and members.
  • Mood: Delighted
  • Listening to: The songs that are stuck in my head
  • Reading: what im typing/texts
  • Watching: noftin
  • Playing: noftin
  • Eating: noftin
  • Drinking: Rootbeer


Shadowonthewall22's Profile Picture
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States
I'm a 17 year old girl and love to draw Dr.Richtofen I have a good time with it and love to hear what people have to say about my work. I honestly love to write and draw both are a hobby of mine and do either whenever I get the chance. I also love poetry, science, music, singing and a ton of other things. :iconcoverit1plz::iconcoverit2plz: :iconnyancatplz: :iconawesomela: :iconsouleaterplz: :iconrichtofenplz: :icongreendayplz: :iconblairplz: :iconthreedaysgraceplz: :iconmychemicalromanceplz: :iconthebeatlesplz: :lick: :iconbatmanplz: :iconspidermanplz: :iconthejokerplz: :iconmortalkombatplz: :iconbaltoplz: :iconsuperpokeplz: :iconwarningplz: :silentkitty: :iconcorpsebrideplz: :iconhitlerwtfplz: :matrixfight: :icontrollfaceplz: :iconermacplz: :iconmegustaplz: :icongirplz: :iconzimplz: :icongazplz: :icontakplz: :iconvenomplz: :iconblackopsplz: :icongirlgamerplz: :ninjabattle: :ninjaeat: :iconmakaplz: :icondragonhugplz: :iconrichtofenrapefaceplz: :iconshinigamichopplz: :iconfreddyfazbearplz: :iconfoxythepirateplz: :iconchicaplz: :iconbonniethebunnyplz: :iconthemarionetteplz: :iconballoonboyplz: :iconspringtrapplz: :iconpurpleguyplz:

Sexy beast!!!!!!!! :heart::iconrichtofenlaplz::iconrichtofenlaplz::iconrichtofenlaplz::iconrichtofenlaplz::heart: :iconisayplz: :iconyousayplz: :iconisayplz: :icontheysayplz: :iconpartayplz:

My DA family:
Father: None :(
:iconkatnhorseluv: (Cat Neko)

other account: :iconwednesday22:

Do not use my deviations without my permission plz and thankyou! If so there's hell to pay....

Journal History

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monochrome-galaxy Featured By Owner Oct 12, 2015  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Thank you so much for the fave! it really means alot to me. if you want to see more of my work or even be in for the chance to win free art. Then please don’t be shy to hit that watch button, it would really mean alot to me. ^^ thanks again for your time, and have a good day :3
Crap-zapper Featured By Owner Sep 21, 2015  Student General Artist
Thanks for the Fav sweetie. :hug: 
Shadowonthewall22 Featured By Owner Sep 23, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
No problem big guy :)
Crap-zapper Featured By Owner Sep 23, 2015  Student General Artist
Haha Laugh 
Shadowonthewall22 Featured By Owner Sep 23, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
sonsal4ever123 Featured By Owner Sep 19, 2015
Thanks for the fav.
Shadowonthewall22 Featured By Owner Sep 19, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
What can I say? It was really cute
sonsal4ever123 Featured By Owner Sep 19, 2015
Thanks. :D
Shadowonthewall22 Featured By Owner Sep 20, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
always :)
Toylady Featured By Owner Aug 25, 2015
Thanks for watching :-)
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