Who are we is a question I ask, where did we come from way back in our past, are we really from here or some where in space did we come here to colonize are we the reason the dinosaurs are extinct where did we come from, where do you think this is a question I ask repeatedly. Did we hail from another planet dieing like a star or were our ancestors all but killed off, the thoughts I think about have me always curious, did we destroy ourselves and now starting over were we really genius traveling threw the stars. So many questions none have yet to be discovered who are we really how many of us suffered likes those in area 51 we are experimenting on our brothers and sisters this just will not do, but this is just my ideas on the subject what about you?
About the Creator
Loki Ramsey
I like to write poetry both love and creepy its been a passion of mine since I was a kid and something I can do all day.
Keep reading
More stories from Loki Ramsey and writers in Poets and other communities.
Boundless
Deep inside my passion hides an eternal flame I cant describe for your beauty I do adore but owning your heart means even more. You are my blessing my dream come true, just like the sun I will always brighten your day, I need you like the flowers need the rain, is there anything more that i need to say. Our destiny is written engraved in the stars its me an you forever no matter the size of the storm. As the sea rages beating at my heart I take one look at you an the pain all stops, in my future I know two things are certain I will continue living with you by my side and I have no reason no reason to run an hide.
By Loki Ramsey6 years ago in Poets
First Starlight of Summer
Your whole being is constituted by yearning. You miss the stars but have never seen a fully-realized night sky sparkle to life before your eyes. You write things, funny but short but profound, emulating the archaic cosmos that turns by its own unknowable calculus emulating love in all its celestial glory turning in that same cryptic way, but fully know neither and hardly know both, and it feels disingenuous, so you write about writers. It feels vaguely masturbatory, but it’s funny but short but profound and it impresses the people around you enough, so you run with it forever until you can’t anymore.
By Steven Christopher McKnight3 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.