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The old lady’s back garden was a wasteland.
“My husband used to look after it much better than I can, there used to be a lovely rose bush over there, but it’s gone a little wild”.
I looked around trying to quell the rising panic. Why, oh why had I said I would tidy her garden for $5? How was I supposed to know, she had the largest garden on the block.
By M Daly URL on 05.13.2011
this is a wasteland, where all your talents dry up. it’s not how you thought it would be, and at the same time it’s everything you feared it would be. it is dry. it is hot. it is tiring. you hallucinate. you fear death is coming, death of all you value, hold dear, love, dream about. death is coming in the wasteland. escape it. leave. go. run. there is time still for you. there is water.
By Kaela on 05.13.2011
Teenage wasteland. Suburban mall. Old-time soda fountain. Parking lots, all. We waste our youths in meaningless days, talking to others, going our ways. Looking back, why bother at all? Perhaps life was better without the mall. Teenage wasteland. High school halls. McDonald’s uniforms. Babysitting calls.
By maritov URL on 05.13.2011
The Wasteland is possibly the best poem ever written. We still live in that wasteland for the most part. Wake up people and live in the here and now and stop wanting everything ads throw at you!
By Will Wilson URL on 05.13.2011
i can not find anything in this wasteland, i need water but there is no water. i hope i will find some or it will rain.if it doesnt rain or i can not find i will die in that wasteland.there are lots of snakes and scorpions that are dangerous for me.i hope i will survive.
By fatich on 05.13.2011
a wasteland is a place of barren treasure. not only is it harmful, but it is also imaginative. in this wasteland many creatures reside. which one shall make it’s debut today. the wilted flower, the dirty bird?
By tatiana URL on 05.13.2011
I think about death and the people that never get out of lands that are desolate. My heart cries and I have to close my eyes. I don’t see the end.. and then I see a little seedling trying to grow, And I have hope.
By Julia on 05.13.2011
drifting away over the cliffs in glass smoke blowing waves of nothingness as far from us as we can make believe that it can go. dreary like the insides of a fly slupping down the side of a window opposite side from where you are. gross. close your eyes.
By choirqueer URL on 05.13.2011
She stared out across the wasteland, uneasy to continue her journey. She didn’t know what to expect. She had only heard stories. Stories of hunger. Stories of thirst. Stories of images in ones mind. This would be a long journey.
By Paperball Potluck URL on 05.13.2011
I stand before you.
My soul is barren.
My heart a wrinkled mass of leather.
My body is a wasteland in which they reside.
Why would you want me?
By Jim Yadon on 05.13.2011
She was not excited about the move this time. Not excited one bit. Moving from such a beautiful new house into a horrible wasteland. There was nothing to be excited about. All she could think about was needing a change. Something needed to start going her way, she could not go on like this for the rest of her life.
By Kari Shadrick URL on 05.13.2011
American wastleand is a skating game from the popular franchise Tony Hawk. His ame “Tony Hawk’s American Wasteland” takes you through popular California sites to steal attractions for a park. The game is pretty awesome, and I recommend it for all skating fans.
By Morgan Oats on 05.13.2011
a wasteland of desolation and despair hurts not only plants and animals but also us humans
we ourselves can become a waste land in our souls when we do not take care of our spirituality and and consider the Bible as our life’s guide
By she53lly URL on 05.13.2011
Wasteland is a place where you dump trash it is very smelly and disguting.
By SoccerStar URL on 05.13.2011
If you to wasteland. Will, I don’t know what you would do. I don’t know what a wasteland is.
By alejandro URL on 05.13.2011
i am a wastland i am a usleless person not able to live
By eman URL on 05.13.2011
barren and cold and the ground is hard, but you have to keep walking because there is something at the end that is unimaginable, unattainable, unreachable, but it’s possible… winter field’s of wasted barley and sugarcane that didn’t have the urge to grow when it was supposed to. regret
By Anna on 05.13.2011
the girl walked though the wekedge of what once was a city was now a wastland she heard a growl and ran the undead where coming
By resident evil fan 1 URL on 05.13.2011
ahead of me, the barrenness of the landscape assaults my eyes. where is all the life? this place looks as if life has never touched it. it hurts to stare at. am I the only thing breathing out here?
By Robin URL on 05.13.2011
Waiting for the word to load. It’s wasteland. What can I say about that? It’s a place where you dump waste, ain’t it? I suppose it could be anywhere. I know of a place local to me, where the farmer just offloads all his rubbish. Black sacks, dirt; it spoils the view enormously. Still, where else can you put it? It’s far too big to put
By Teresa on 05.13.2011
Teenage wasteland. The Who is a freaking’ awesome band. That song, Baba O’Reilly, is a really good song. It kinda makes sense though. We are sometimes a wasteland.
By Sabrina Goodnature on 05.13.2011
This place is a wasteland, don’t ask me how I know or why I think that it’s this way. It just is. It wasn’t the paradise the magazines promised me, but I loved it in all it’s lack of splendor. Where else could you find a place lacking such life? But with life in every corner, does life truly not exist?
By Genevieve Brochtrup on 05.13.2011
A clean, air conditioned, recycled oxygen wasteland.
A wealth of science and technology.
A barren, heartless, strange place with too many voices that weren’t human,
too many pointless, self destructive things.
By R. Lf. M. URL on 05.13.2011
The middle of New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina.
By Will on 05.13.2011
how could it be wasted land with all that stuff piled up everywhere. it’s like someone rushed to fill it so it wouldn’t disappear. the memories of better times could stay living in the debris. why cover land you’re trying to remember? where do the sands of time scatter?
By val to the gal URL on 05.13.2011
so this remind me of the who, you know teenage wasteland, i guess they were really freaking high, but maybe ill go to wasteland today and just have an awesome time with my very good friend booze, even though it could be a relative meaning also..
By iliana on 05.13.2011
T.S Eliot wrote the wasteland. It is considered a classic. Eliot is a plagiarist. El miglio fabro. Plagiarised. Is that wrong? They say yes. He’s considered a great. So it’s not wrong. MLK plagiarised too. Yep, that speech, too. Everything. Shades of everything. It’s in all writing, too; the shades of everything around you. You absorb, then disseminate.
By Zack Schuster URL on 05.13.2011
A tropical oasis, a place filled with life and activity. Breathe in the smells, the vibrant soul of the wasteland. Dismissed as a pile of trash by the overlords, it gave rise to a new hope for the millions of impoverished, a virtual gold rush for the poor yet eager hordes.
By yetihk URL on 05.13.2011
this is a wasteland the end of human time and the end of my own existance, the place between the empty grasslands and the desert where not even the animals dare tread, yet here I am trapped in this place against my will against my own better judgement and why you might ask well that is a story I alone can not tell.
By Kat on 05.13.2011
~It’s a wasteland out there.
-Yeah, but that’s where the fairytales are, isn’t it?
~Sure, but do you really trust something so rotten? Something our forefathers fucked up?
-It’s a wasteland, but it has its stories too, and the deserve to be told.
By Andrea URL on 05.13.2011
this is the end isn’t it? as i sit my hands frantic to write the last words the world will ever know of me I wonder what awaits on the other side. A paradise or a wasteland a place devoid of feeling and physical being. I cannot live with out such things.
Kim Mitchell is not a good radio DJ. In fact, I hear he’s a douche. However, he makes some of the catchiest, most ridiculous songs. “Go For a Soda”. Hah. My childhood mis-understanding makes more sense, where I heard “Might as well go for it so that nobody hurts”. Because how does soda prevent hurt? It doesn’t. In fact, it probably causes more damage. I read the studies.
By AmPetryschuk URL on 05.13.2011
kathleen wondered what could be bringing a transport to this god forsaken wasteland?she thought she had straightened things out in deadbolt…could it be the sheriff?
By The Fake Dann URL on 05.13.2011
A wasteland. We’ve all been there. Its in us, and around us. Its our lives, and its us. Our emotions, and our lives. But if you have patience- you can change it. You can make your wasteland a wonderland.
By Josh on 05.13.2011
hu once i heard about a wasteland, i think of the movie the land before time. i also think of like a videogame. Something like a level you can play on. idk why someone would be doing this but hey im doing it and its alright, maybe something interesting will come out of it. Oh yeah :) this was really 60 seconds? i feel like its longer. maybe i just type fast lol ok seriously is it over yet? Do i just keep typing? yeah its done lol
By eric on 05.13.2011
Your mind reads like a wasteland. All your thoughts, the muggy air sticking to my burnt skin. I can’t breathe in all this space.
By brittanyalyse URL on 05.13.2011
The pathway was empty for all passersby, if any could be seen. The intangible radioactivity drifted over everything, leaving a pall of destitution in it’s wake. There was only one person who strode boldly through the deadly mist, but that was all that was needed. So then his footfalls echoed into nothingness and his imagination was freed.
By Ian McLane on 05.13.2011
An empty space. Devoid of anything. An apocalyptic wasteland, the result of brutal and violent wars. Man has created this place and man suffers for it. Dead plants, mutated wildlife. Violence still exists here.
By Ami Mason on 05.13.2011
i am a wasteland. inside of my body there is trash filled up of the things i left behind but cannot let go of. you look at me and see beauty, but on the inside im a wasteland of the things i hold on to, to the feelings i feel, to everything i see and cannot comprehend. to the things i cannot let go of-the things i will never let go of
By paige URL on 05.13.2011
The entire city was a wasteland. The shock and drama of it all could make a book. Well, actually, it is now a book. But I didn’t write it, and I’m not writing about it now. What I will write about is my life after the bomb. The devastating bomb and explosion, blood, screams, fear, terror, and hysteria will never leave me.
By Christin on 05.13.2011
a division of Identity Crisis, Inc.