Always stood there silent while you levelled up the scale
Always running backward every time I heard you hail
Where every small detail
informed a new travail
And every vein you opened left me left me weaker, left me pale
Tried to talk of leaving but it made me feel so blue
Turning nothing into something that I done to you
Where everything I’d do
confirmed your point of view
I shipped out with my sorrows and you scorned me for them too
What swims there in the darkness baby? You don’t wanna know
Anaesthetize those feelings for your automatic show
There’s nothing left to say,
there’s nowhere left to go
But if you took it slow,
and looked inside the shadow
You’d find a gate that leads into the garden
The garden where I have waited
an eternity
I always remember jumping over the fences into the wide open fields where the cows roamed and the sand was soft under your feet. The wind blows in your face, letting you know what the country is like. Oh how I wish I could jump over the fences again.
Kendra Hicks
Hi, I don’t know what to do anymore with you. Maybe because I’m just afraid you’d mistaken my attitude towards you as my liking to you. Yes, I like you but not to the point of saying I love you. Do you get me?
Cee
I keep thinking of long, white, wooden fences, around three feet tall, that line the fronts of suburb houses that look exactly alike. Rows and rows of them, spanning out into the distance, as far as the eye can see.
white. pretty. boundary. neighbours. separation. landscape. and jumping over them.
Suja
Wenn du im Wald bist, dann ist der Boden im Moment mit verwitternden Blättern in verschiedenen Brauntönen bedeckt. Sie glänzen feucht und es ist still. Farne und Moos sind leuchtend grün und ich frage mich, wo sie die ganze Farbe hernehmen, wenn es doch so kalt ist und die Sonnne sich so selten blicken lässt.
I sold everything that I stole from you to a fence. He’ll sell it back to the populous for cheaper than the way I got it, even though everything I sold to him I got for free. Someone has to have a use for these things I gained from you. But I have none.
Everyone says he puts up walls. Never lets anyone in. And he has to agree. There are plenty of walls, of varying heights and depths and thicknesses. But some, some he argues are only fences. And if you really tried, you could get over them with ease.
there are fences, and perhaps the majority of them i built, or they built. i was always looking at the world over those fences, close enough to laugh together without joining them,
kaorita
We build our fences up towards the sky. We think to ourselves, ‘No one will get in, this is my land.’ But when we meet the right kind of person, those fences are gone in a second.
The key here is to realize the white picked troll keeping you from greener pastures is made of wood, and fallible. You must first conquer the one they call “Wilson.” The one who has an array of home improving tool sets and wrenches. Here, take this gun. You’ll need it it to blast through any further obstructions that hinder your dreams. Remember: this fence is just a metaphor, but the defeat is real.
The day before Canada day, technically Canada because it was after midnight if you want to be all technical. I was jumping over the three and half foot fence to the neighbours, misjudged how far my leg needed to go over to step on the cement block on the other side, slipped scrapped my leg on the cement wall and fence, then to top it off smashed my forehead on their bbq. I now am Harry Potter.
And she ducks and weaves around fences where she could and on occasions physically defending herself from people in the crowd as they came close. The abuse the crowd hurled at her was not deserved. They were raging at a common enemy and she came out of the wrong door at the wrong time.
If only he could rip down the fences; he’s have such a better view of her window. He watched her undress and then dry herself after her shower, she had no idea he was there.
The other side was as mysterious as ever. Separated only by a dirty-white picket fence, I doubt it can keep anything out. But I knew that wasn’t true. Ever since we moved here, beside that strange lot, neighbors have been warning my family and I about it. They said that ever since the original house burned down in a fire, it has been haunted. But despite all those cautions, something about it lured me to it. I pushed myself over the fence and looked back at our house, staring, readying myself as I enter the dangerous land.
Just as I entered the world,
A fence stood right before me.
It taunted me
It laughed at me
What will you do now?
What will you do now?
And I climbed over it.
White picket fences are all I see. All perfect and in a row. All pristine in their whiteness. It feels odd. Out of place. Like this corner of the Earth is untouched by the rest of society. Some real Stepford shit, in other words.
zerosozha
a barrier or guard to prevent entry
gregory jackson
there are no walls around me.
only fences.
obstacles i can see over.
and get over.
if i work hard enough.
The fences were made of peeling white paint. The lined each of hour houses. We awoke penned in but we pretended we wanted them there. We pretended that they were built to keep people out, but at night we dreamt that they were there to keep us in.
Maya
Fences, across the African bush, dividing up the land. The animals still migrate as they have done for eons, only to be blocked, caught, impaled on the fences of death. Their instinct to live causing them death. I weep.
The cow jumped over the fence. I followed it but my shirt got caught on the fence. It was scurrying away quickly, but after I ripped my shirt off I was able to run free and wild just like the cow. Then we both sat down and had ice cream together. I should have seen this coming, but the cow ended up being offended and left me alone.
expressed123
The red fences dotted the suburban landscape. Nobody knew why the fences were painted in such an obnoxiously uniform color, but they never questioned it and carried about their daily business year after year.
Good fences make good neighbors. At least that’s what they say. But what if we could go back to that time when neighbors could borrow a cup of sugar? Seriously, my neighbor came over just a couple nights ago to get some oregano from me. I know I live in a strange time-bubble neighborhood, but it’s a nice place to be. Good fences don’t make good neighbors; good neighbors (kindness, generosity, a warm and open attitude, and possibly a well-stocked kitchen) make good neighbors.
Heidi Wilde
The birds sat still on silent fences
They colored the world with their loud feathers
And painted the air with their sweet songs
The world turned round and round
To the music of the birds
In tune with the metronome morning sun
I once read a book about fences. The fences were a metaphor for life, the moral was that the grass is always greener on the other side. I tried to keep these things in mind when I approached my new suburban house, the defining feature of which was the white picket fence surrounding the embarrassingly green lawn.
mending fences
broken fences
picket fences
jumping fences
pipe dreams
all of them
i’ll stick to the fences of
barbed-wire
i’ve constructed around
my heart
Fences? Hmm. Not much to say about fences. One time though, there was a spider in my neighbors (also my cousins) fence post, it was HUGE and white. and i smashed it with a baseball bat. hehe, the bat got stuck bahah. And its still there after many years. I think I got my spider phobia later in life. I used to let baby ones crawl all over my hands :)
Fences hold guards to our yards. It doesn’t matter if it is pick-it fence or bob-wire. They are all the same, and they all server the same purpose.
When a dog runs a way that is a good time to start to use fences. I have a lot of fences around my backyard.
I think they are a useful material. They can help by marking different peoples properties or land.
Swords
Always stood there silent while you levelled up the scale
Always running backward every time I heard you hail
Where every small detail
informed a new travail
And every vein you opened left me left me weaker, left me pale
Tried to talk of leaving but it made me feel so blue
Turning nothing into something that I done to you
Where everything I’d do
confirmed your point of view
I shipped out with my sorrows and you scorned me for them too
What swims there in the darkness baby? You don’t wanna know
Anaesthetize those feelings for your automatic show
There’s nothing left to say,
there’s nowhere left to go
But if you took it slow,
and looked inside the shadow
You’d find a gate that leads into the garden
The garden where I have waited
an eternity
When I think of the word fence I think of the Sandlot with the tall fence that the dog knocks or the best knocks down.
There is fences around my whole back yard to keep my three dogs in the yard. But one of my dog’s keep jumping the fence.
a fences is something around the yard.
things to keep animals in and others out. they are tall and long.
there is a fence around the yard.
Dog traps protection sometimes metal good for hopping over.
Fences is a Boarder around the yard or something
I always remember jumping over the fences into the wide open fields where the cows roamed and the sand was soft under your feet. The wind blows in your face, letting you know what the country is like. Oh how I wish I could jump over the fences again.
Hi, I don’t know what to do anymore with you. Maybe because I’m just afraid you’d mistaken my attitude towards you as my liking to you. Yes, I like you but not to the point of saying I love you. Do you get me?
I keep thinking of long, white, wooden fences, around three feet tall, that line the fronts of suburb houses that look exactly alike. Rows and rows of them, spanning out into the distance, as far as the eye can see.
white. pretty. boundary. neighbours. separation. landscape. and jumping over them.
Wenn du im Wald bist, dann ist der Boden im Moment mit verwitternden Blättern in verschiedenen Brauntönen bedeckt. Sie glänzen feucht und es ist still. Farne und Moos sind leuchtend grün und ich frage mich, wo sie die ganze Farbe hernehmen, wenn es doch so kalt ist und die Sonnne sich so selten blicken lässt.
I sold everything that I stole from you to a fence. He’ll sell it back to the populous for cheaper than the way I got it, even though everything I sold to him I got for free. Someone has to have a use for these things I gained from you. But I have none.
Everyone says he puts up walls. Never lets anyone in. And he has to agree. There are plenty of walls, of varying heights and depths and thicknesses. But some, some he argues are only fences. And if you really tried, you could get over them with ease.
No one tries.
there are fences, and perhaps the majority of them i built, or they built. i was always looking at the world over those fences, close enough to laugh together without joining them,
We build our fences up towards the sky. We think to ourselves, ‘No one will get in, this is my land.’ But when we meet the right kind of person, those fences are gone in a second.
The key here is to realize the white picked troll keeping you from greener pastures is made of wood, and fallible. You must first conquer the one they call “Wilson.” The one who has an array of home improving tool sets and wrenches. Here, take this gun. You’ll need it it to blast through any further obstructions that hinder your dreams. Remember: this fence is just a metaphor, but the defeat is real.
The day before Canada day, technically Canada because it was after midnight if you want to be all technical. I was jumping over the three and half foot fence to the neighbours, misjudged how far my leg needed to go over to step on the cement block on the other side, slipped scrapped my leg on the cement wall and fence, then to top it off smashed my forehead on their bbq. I now am Harry Potter.
And she ducks and weaves around fences where she could and on occasions physically defending herself from people in the crowd as they came close. The abuse the crowd hurled at her was not deserved. They were raging at a common enemy and she came out of the wrong door at the wrong time.
If only he could rip down the fences; he’s have such a better view of her window. He watched her undress and then dry herself after her shower, she had no idea he was there.
The other side was as mysterious as ever. Separated only by a dirty-white picket fence, I doubt it can keep anything out. But I knew that wasn’t true. Ever since we moved here, beside that strange lot, neighbors have been warning my family and I about it. They said that ever since the original house burned down in a fire, it has been haunted. But despite all those cautions, something about it lured me to it. I pushed myself over the fence and looked back at our house, staring, readying myself as I enter the dangerous land.
Fences keep the bad things out. All his life the boy had been told this.
But one day he dared to cross over to the other side and he found out that what he had been told all his life was only half right.
Yes, they keep some of the bad things out…but they keep you from the good things as well.
Just as I entered the world,
A fence stood right before me.
It taunted me
It laughed at me
What will you do now?
What will you do now?
And I climbed over it.
White picket fences are all I see. All perfect and in a row. All pristine in their whiteness. It feels odd. Out of place. Like this corner of the Earth is untouched by the rest of society. Some real Stepford shit, in other words.
a barrier or guard to prevent entry
there are no walls around me.
only fences.
obstacles i can see over.
and get over.
if i work hard enough.
The fences were made of peeling white paint. The lined each of hour houses. We awoke penned in but we pretended we wanted them there. We pretended that they were built to keep people out, but at night we dreamt that they were there to keep us in.
Fences, across the African bush, dividing up the land. The animals still migrate as they have done for eons, only to be blocked, caught, impaled on the fences of death. Their instinct to live causing them death. I weep.
The cow jumped over the fence. I followed it but my shirt got caught on the fence. It was scurrying away quickly, but after I ripped my shirt off I was able to run free and wild just like the cow. Then we both sat down and had ice cream together. I should have seen this coming, but the cow ended up being offended and left me alone.
The red fences dotted the suburban landscape. Nobody knew why the fences were painted in such an obnoxiously uniform color, but they never questioned it and carried about their daily business year after year.
Good fences make good neighbors. At least that’s what they say. But what if we could go back to that time when neighbors could borrow a cup of sugar? Seriously, my neighbor came over just a couple nights ago to get some oregano from me. I know I live in a strange time-bubble neighborhood, but it’s a nice place to be. Good fences don’t make good neighbors; good neighbors (kindness, generosity, a warm and open attitude, and possibly a well-stocked kitchen) make good neighbors.
The birds sat still on silent fences
They colored the world with their loud feathers
And painted the air with their sweet songs
The world turned round and round
To the music of the birds
In tune with the metronome morning sun
I once read a book about fences. The fences were a metaphor for life, the moral was that the grass is always greener on the other side. I tried to keep these things in mind when I approached my new suburban house, the defining feature of which was the white picket fence surrounding the embarrassingly green lawn.
mending fences
broken fences
picket fences
jumping fences
pipe dreams
all of them
i’ll stick to the fences of
barbed-wire
i’ve constructed around
my heart
white, picketed lawns
black, jail bars
red, fiery flames
blue, ocean waves
jump hurdle freedom
Fences? Hmm. Not much to say about fences. One time though, there was a spider in my neighbors (also my cousins) fence post, it was HUGE and white. and i smashed it with a baseball bat. hehe, the bat got stuck bahah. And its still there after many years. I think I got my spider phobia later in life. I used to let baby ones crawl all over my hands :)