tables have corners so do rooms and other objects that are squares, i guess corners rock and stuff…yeah i love chair corners that eat cucumbers and potatoe brains. books have corners so do stereos.
i sat in the corner, it was the easiest way not to be noticed. They’d come back to early, I really wish I’d said no to Derek when he asked me. Burgling isn’t really my thing I said to him, he wouldn’t listen. He never listens and I always get caught,
He stood in the corner. Surrounded by walls, he felt secure. No hands would come from out of the wall to push him sprawling into the hallways. From the walls, no voices would rise, piercing his skin. No. With the corner, he felt secure.
I sat in a corner and pondered why everything around me was so dark and empty and the rain outside my window was creating the perfect explanation.. because the world is wet and cold and everything around us is always dark and it’s our job to find the light in each and every thing.
Around the corner, he lies. I saw him once. His entire body pulsated with boils and veins; his eyes are blood red with a swelling rage. He is after me. Soon.
I was stuck inside my little corner. As I watched all the other kids playing, and enjoying their brand new toys….I stood there with my mind in a daze. I was upset at my teacher, and yelled at her with incoherent words. She had put me in this godforsaken corner. I was afraid of what my parents had to say about the ‘trouble’, I had caused.
It’s nice to have someone in your “corner.” Someone who will fight for you, comfort you, just listen when you need someone to listen. I try to be that person for the people I care about – my family and a few of my friends. I am that person for some people but they don’t realize it and they’re not that person for me. I wish they were.
He was sitting there in the corner, panting, covered in blood, but not his blood. The blood was mine, the same as the crime was his. No matter what he did it haunted him every day. The blood would never leave, a symptom of his dementia and my malice.
I stared at the droplet of water as it slowly zig zagged its way down the nicotine stained wall, becoming ever more yellow along it route. It came to a rest in the dusty corner, settling in a pool that would surly become a tasty and invigorating treat for some unsuspecting cockroaches.
hiding in the corner ? too emo. I like corners. they’re kind of safe and fun to be in. they imply an edge in which you can tuck yourself. i think a lot of people probably associate them with being punished, but i never had that. i like to sit there and read books, propped in a corner. i like to have cushions
It is quiet here, and lonely. Anyone’s imagination can run wild in a corner, for there are no earthly limitations or distractions that they may encounter.
There is a bookshelf in the corner of my room. It is filled to the top but Im not even close to finishing them all. Its comforting to know that those books will always be there and that I will never be bored.
On the corner is a man,
Who once had the whole world in his hands.
But he gambled it all away,
And now with the passing of each day,
He stands on the corner,
No longer a man but a mourner,
For the family he lost and poverty he gained.
My corner. All mine. I was sent here. My mom caught be doing something bad. My corner. I only do that stuff to come back here. Oh how i love this corner. It speaks to me……
I seek solitude here. The solace of the quiet darkness is enough for me to feel peaceful in a corner, because it’s isolation from the whole of a room gives it something very unique.
He sat facing the wall, watching the shadows stretch out across the blank plaster, black tinged by the orange-pink of the setting sun. He could see the shapes of moving trees, of falling leaves, because watching the wall was easier than staring through the glass and knowing he could never leave.
Everytime my mom gets mad at me, it’s the same thing. The corner. Chair faced away from the bustle of the kitchen, a punishment I would dread throughout my childhood.
I like to sit in the corner and think sometimes. There’s no one behind you to stab you in the back when you think you can trust them. You can just sit there and look at the whole world and wonder. Sometimes I think the corner is the only place to be, because everywhere else is just so scary. You never know how some people are going to really act until you see them for their true selves.
counting minutes, doing the same thing
over and over, falling into a
routine that will never be broken
nor ever support any life.
Even though i know these days are limited,
reality has a way of taking its sweet time.
corner. “you looked cornered.” three-way repetition. how aj prefers two-way, or rather how she thinks its underrated. the showcase, the afterparty, the after class party. i can’t let her just leave like things are.
The corner of the street. The corner of the page. You turn, and a new scene is before you. Possibilities stem from not knowing, and waiting to see.
The corner of the room–much more depressing, but perhaps a warm memory, too–the smile of reflection on your face.
The poor little boy was forced to live his life in the corner. His parents hated him and his nanny tried to be as kind as possible. Unfortunately, he had no other friends. But he did have a teddy bear, which is close enough. This boy’s name was Alfred.
sharp and jagged. round the bend. something else awaits you, but what? do you know what is behind it? i don’t. bring a mirror, see behind you. look around the corner. stay safe.
I’m in a corner, the corner of my life. I’m at the edge. i’m about to fall. I’m in my car. Driving straight. An open road ahead of me. There’s nothing to crash into. I need something to crash.I see a light pole and trees. I run a red a light. And then I see it.
in the corner of the street there’s lots of people meeting every day. white people, black people. rich people, and people without a house. people singing and people waitting. Young people and people with kids. all in that corner.
every flat part dies in the corner. the life dies in the corner.
the world spins in the corner, off in the corner. one dies in the corner sometimes. everyone will die in a corner.
A place where naughty kids go to when they are naughty and when they do naughty stuff and when they be naughty. This is also a place where two walls intercept. :lol:
There was a stain in the corner. I didn’t know what color to call that but I don’t think I could associate it with anything clean. Something happened here. I don’t if I should call it evidence or a mess.
she sat facing the corner. only she wasn’t crying this time. she was making pictures on the wall with her mind. projections of the past, of the future. projections of the love she forgot to feel. the love she almost felt. the tears.
The corner brings back too many painful memories because first I’m thinking about ‘In my own little corner’ but then I’m thinking about rejection and failures, and too many things at once and they all hurt. It all hurts. I don’t want to think about it. It will only hurt more.
tables have corners so do rooms and other objects that are squares, i guess corners rock and stuff…yeah i love chair corners that eat cucumbers and potatoe brains. books have corners so do stereos.
i sat in the corner, it was the easiest way not to be noticed. They’d come back to early, I really wish I’d said no to Derek when he asked me. Burgling isn’t really my thing I said to him, he wouldn’t listen. He never listens and I always get caught,
He stood in the corner. Surrounded by walls, he felt secure. No hands would come from out of the wall to push him sprawling into the hallways. From the walls, no voices would rise, piercing his skin. No. With the corner, he felt secure.
And interestingly, nobody ever saw him there.
I sat in a corner and pondered why everything around me was so dark and empty and the rain outside my window was creating the perfect explanation.. because the world is wet and cold and everything around us is always dark and it’s our job to find the light in each and every thing.
Around the corner, he lies. I saw him once. His entire body pulsated with boils and veins; his eyes are blood red with a swelling rage. He is after me. Soon.
I was stuck inside my little corner. As I watched all the other kids playing, and enjoying their brand new toys….I stood there with my mind in a daze. I was upset at my teacher, and yelled at her with incoherent words. She had put me in this godforsaken corner. I was afraid of what my parents had to say about the ‘trouble’, I had caused.
we always have a corner in life, we just have to choose weather or not to go around it, and continue on
It’s nice to have someone in your “corner.” Someone who will fight for you, comfort you, just listen when you need someone to listen. I try to be that person for the people I care about – my family and a few of my friends. I am that person for some people but they don’t realize it and they’re not that person for me. I wish they were.
He was sitting there in the corner, panting, covered in blood, but not his blood. The blood was mine, the same as the crime was his. No matter what he did it haunted him every day. The blood would never leave, a symptom of his dementia and my malice.
I stared at the droplet of water as it slowly zig zagged its way down the nicotine stained wall, becoming ever more yellow along it route. It came to a rest in the dusty corner, settling in a pool that would surly become a tasty and invigorating treat for some unsuspecting cockroaches.
hiding in the corner ? too emo. I like corners. they’re kind of safe and fun to be in. they imply an edge in which you can tuck yourself. i think a lot of people probably associate them with being punished, but i never had that. i like to sit there and read books, propped in a corner. i like to have cushions
It is quiet here, and lonely. Anyone’s imagination can run wild in a corner, for there are no earthly limitations or distractions that they may encounter.
Corners?
Why would I want to write about corners?
I’d much rather write about circles.
They’re cool.
They just sit there being round.
I love circles.
There is a bookshelf in the corner of my room. It is filled to the top but Im not even close to finishing them all. Its comforting to know that those books will always be there and that I will never be bored.
On the corner is a man,
Who once had the whole world in his hands.
But he gambled it all away,
And now with the passing of each day,
He stands on the corner,
No longer a man but a mourner,
For the family he lost and poverty he gained.
My corner. All mine. I was sent here. My mom caught be doing something bad. My corner. I only do that stuff to come back here. Oh how i love this corner. It speaks to me……
I seek solitude here. The solace of the quiet darkness is enough for me to feel peaceful in a corner, because it’s isolation from the whole of a room gives it something very unique.
He sat facing the wall, watching the shadows stretch out across the blank plaster, black tinged by the orange-pink of the setting sun. He could see the shapes of moving trees, of falling leaves, because watching the wall was easier than staring through the glass and knowing he could never leave.
I walked round the corner,
Wanted to see,
No there,
Only me,
Oh God,
I am lonely,
On the neighborhood corner,
Dear Corner,
Oh me and my lonely corner.
Everytime my mom gets mad at me, it’s the same thing. The corner. Chair faced away from the bustle of the kitchen, a punishment I would dread throughout my childhood.
as elke was embracing bogdan,kathleen saw andy out of the corner of her eye.he was hopping on one foot,excited to see bogdan. she took mercy on him.
“bow-don,”the robot yellled,”bow-don!”
I like to sit in the corner and think sometimes. There’s no one behind you to stab you in the back when you think you can trust them. You can just sit there and look at the whole world and wonder. Sometimes I think the corner is the only place to be, because everywhere else is just so scary. You never know how some people are going to really act until you see them for their true selves.
counting minutes, doing the same thing
over and over, falling into a
routine that will never be broken
nor ever support any life.
Even though i know these days are limited,
reality has a way of taking its sweet time.
corner. “you looked cornered.” three-way repetition. how aj prefers two-way, or rather how she thinks its underrated. the showcase, the afterparty, the after class party. i can’t let her just leave like things are.
The corner of the street. The corner of the page. You turn, and a new scene is before you. Possibilities stem from not knowing, and waiting to see.
The corner of the room–much more depressing, but perhaps a warm memory, too–the smile of reflection on your face.
The poor little boy was forced to live his life in the corner. His parents hated him and his nanny tried to be as kind as possible. Unfortunately, he had no other friends. But he did have a teddy bear, which is close enough. This boy’s name was Alfred.
sharp and jagged. round the bend. something else awaits you, but what? do you know what is behind it? i don’t. bring a mirror, see behind you. look around the corner. stay safe.
I’m in a corner, the corner of my life. I’m at the edge. i’m about to fall. I’m in my car. Driving straight. An open road ahead of me. There’s nothing to crash into. I need something to crash.I see a light pole and trees. I run a red a light. And then I see it.
in the corner of the street there’s lots of people meeting every day. white people, black people. rich people, and people without a house. people singing and people waitting. Young people and people with kids. all in that corner.
The last corner to turn is usually the one that carries along the most regrets.
every flat part dies in the corner. the life dies in the corner.
the world spins in the corner, off in the corner. one dies in the corner sometimes. everyone will die in a corner.
A place where naughty kids go to when they are naughty and when they do naughty stuff and when they be naughty. This is also a place where two walls intercept. :lol:
i cut my self in the corner, when no one is looking.
im going to die in the night in this corner.
There was a stain in the corner. I didn’t know what color to call that but I don’t think I could associate it with anything clean. Something happened here. I don’t if I should call it evidence or a mess.
one bored boy sits in the corner
he’s sad some because he
was bad mannered.
she sat facing the corner. only she wasn’t crying this time. she was making pictures on the wall with her mind. projections of the past, of the future. projections of the love she forgot to feel. the love she almost felt. the tears.
The corner brings back too many painful memories because first I’m thinking about ‘In my own little corner’ but then I’m thinking about rejection and failures, and too many things at once and they all hurt. It all hurts. I don’t want to think about it. It will only hurt more.
wall instinctively still among four corners
the square isn’t there just represented
the end of time.
a little stop along the way.. normally where one waits, and often trying to determine which way to go.