My clothes were really ragged, mostly because I bought them from the salvation army. It’s fun to pick out the most hideous clothes on the face of the earth and wear them around just because. Plus, they’re ridiculously cheap and you get a good laugh out of the process. But anyway, they were definitely ragged. I had initially planned on fixing the seams and making it look nice, but who really cares?
what am i supposed to write?
all that comes to my mind? or what?
what if i want to write a song? ok
im just going to write about one trip i went on this weekend
i went to the beach and met so many people, some guys
they were handsome enough, i went with my sister and brother
and one friend; we spent a lot of money in alcohol and food
ragged is such an old fashion word, he looked ragged, she wore a ragged dress, I know what it means but it I would only use it if I was born in the 1920’s and living in England.
Ragged. Like a ragged doll. A torn shirt. An old house. An old house with creaky boards, dusty countertops and ragged curtains. Curtains that are the color of his eyes, green like grass, but now dull – ragged. Mold has made its mark; holes now penetrate the ragged curtains.
ragged, torn, wasted. a loved doll tossed aside, a worn out blanket still cherished. ragged breath after a long run, passion. the word itself leaves you feeling breathless. truly exasperated. ragged is as ragged does.
What an unpleasant word. Ragged. it reminds me of a destroyed piece of cloth, something that was once beautiful and vivid, but now is only a memory of its outdated life
I always feel so ragged. Life just seems so meaningless, and then i realize that is actually, truly is. That doesn’t mean it’s not worth it though. I mean it’s all what we make it. It can, and will, end so quick and then it’s all over.
The sweater is ragged. The edges are torn and the bottom is falling apart. Kinda like my life right now. It’s ragged. It’s broken. When will it get better?
Ragged scars and ragged clothing, the signs of someone who has seen many hardships. Hard times make ragged people, ragged people have done hard things. Hard things come in all shapes and sizes, and raggedness can show itself in many ways. A smile, a rip or tear, a word, a laugh. So many things can be ragged, can be twisted and almost broken.
she had a ragged tooth hanging over her lip. it was disgusting. i wondered how she had gotten it. my brother thought it was beautiful and gave her character. i thought how could she go out of the house like that. then i thought, was kind of trauma led to this tooth? was she battered by her boyfriend? is she a battered wife? or did she just
I came upon a small girl once. Tattered dress matching her ragged doll. The doll had a stain on it’s chest that resembled a small spider. The girl had the same one over her heart.
if you are like me, you lie in bed and complain yo yourself about how it is so cold and life is unfair. take a step back, there are people in ragged torn clothes on the streets. if you were they, wouldnt you rather be youself now??
i wear these clothes every day because i don’t have any other. i know people look at me. i know people talk about me. is it my choice?
well, i mean i guess it is, but seriously. who wants to see my fat ass naked?…a lot of people do. a LOT of people…do.
A ripped hirt. a ragged doll. Something diry, mis-placed. Perhaps a house that had been abandoned. dusty floorboards, creaking doors and ragged curtains. mold has eaten them. through them. holes appear here and there, the color now dull and witewashed. or maybe that torn shirt. perhaps red, the color of ripe tomatoes. the color of blood from a pin-pricked finger.
the old, ragged, blood red flag hung low on the horizon as the hundreds of soldiers lay face down on the dying grass. The war was over for them, but it would never be for their families. Their ragged officers uniforms would be sent back home to forever remind them of what happened on that day. The day when death knocked on everyone’s door.
Ragged, like the fence I crashed through into the street in front my neighbors house when I was 13. My knees, ragged from the scabs. My voice, ragged at 17 from too many cigarettes. My heart, ragged from years of abuse. “Ragged Wood” my favorite Fleet Foxes song.
The dog had a ragged tail. How it got that way could not be explained. The dog ravaged and pillaged in search of home, but instead ran from dog catchers and people in red. He didn’t like sleeping on cellophane, but wanted a bed with his name engraved.
The ragged dress she wore told the story of her life. She wasn’t born rich but she had spent part of her life fairly affluent. If only her husband hadn’t been such an asshole, She should have listened to her mother, this time; that one time. Her life would have been so much better.
The girl stepped outside dressed in a ragged white tee shirt and her mothers old pair of blue jeans. She was quietly munching on an apple. After climbing down her front steps the girl hailed the yellow cab that was zooming her way. “TAXI!” she yelped. The cab was warm and toasty and smelt like authentic leather. She starred out the window and counted every tree that passed. As the cab picked up speed the objects outside became a soft green blur.
ragged clothes from goodwill, once were brand new and made someone happy enough to wear them over and over again until they are nearly threadbare. ragged edge, that dark place, that hole that you are afraid of going to because of depression.
The stone wasn’t too particular,
it looked just like the rest.
But this one, this is the one I used to release all my tension, and why I’m sitting in the cell I am now.
It looked a lot like the others, but this stone, this stone cost him his life, and cost me mine.
ragged is a word that can describe the appereance of something or someone. eg: William’s favorite pants are becoming ragged. or All the long days in the sun are running him ragged.
how appropriate, no really, when the threads are bare already and the strands hang down lower than ever before, thank you for identifying just what it is I am
LIke the little doll you used to play with as a littl ekid? i enver really had one but all myf riends had them, they used atoo all be in love with them. kinda like guys were in love with their action figures, but lest be hoenst, they were really dolls. dolls with abs and arm and leg muscles. everyone was jealous of those. i want a barbie, not really i never eally played with them. i used to rip their heads off in preschool with my friend. my mom would get mad at me. dont think, just write, thats what oyou said
His ragged breathing disturbed the air, warm puffs of air squeezing around icicles and underneath frozen fringes. His shoulders shook, an uneven sin equation graphed into reality. Shutting his eyes, he prayed for relief.
the man crossed my path looking terribly disheveled, dressed in ragged clothes, looking like he had just crawled from under a rock of some sort, or maybe from underneath the bridge across the park.
Out of the ragged book fell a letter.
don’t ever forget the last word of her sentences. she always means the last word, but the rest of the sentence is bullshit. forget the rest, just focus on the last word.
She didn’t know what this meant. Am I the girl? She thought.
Her clothes were torn, her shoes gone. But her smile, her eyes, they were as bright as the sun. Her hair was cropped short and hastily stuffed behind her ears. She pulled along an old, torn suitcase stuffed with clothes, money, and an old beat-up sketchbook, along with a precariously short pencil and a knife.
Sometimes, I remember the clothes I wore as a little kid at playtime outside: they were mud encrusted, and smelled like the grass, the summer breeze, and of spilled lemonade.
Then I remember, those were the only clothes I had. But they were well loved.
Ragged, dirty and well worn. The young girl’s favorite jacket was beginning to show signs of her tough love. It is funny how often we treat the things we care for so badly.
ragged blade
ragged cloths worn by a homeless man looking for love
ragged times of heart ache and pain that we all have gone threw weither we have had someone hold us threw those times or not.
ragged truns in life that lead us to were we need to go.
Iwas on a ragged edge after witnessing the murder of three people. Iwas simply going shopping and out of no where this crazy man began shootingg at the polical folks.
My clothes were really ragged, mostly because I bought them from the salvation army. It’s fun to pick out the most hideous clothes on the face of the earth and wear them around just because. Plus, they’re ridiculously cheap and you get a good laugh out of the process. But anyway, they were definitely ragged. I had initially planned on fixing the seams and making it look nice, but who really cares?
The lyrics are running through my head– oh, what am I doing to my brain?
what am i supposed to write?
all that comes to my mind? or what?
what if i want to write a song? ok
im just going to write about one trip i went on this weekend
i went to the beach and met so many people, some guys
they were handsome enough, i went with my sister and brother
and one friend; we spent a lot of money in alcohol and food
1ragged = Rough Attributes Grossly Grazed Every Dimension
ragged is such an old fashion word, he looked ragged, she wore a ragged dress, I know what it means but it I would only use it if I was born in the 1920’s and living in England.
His clothes were downtrodden and he look like a ragged innocent man. He smiled, teeth lighting up the darkness. His eyes stole her heart immediatly.
cliffs, newfoundland, plaid shirts, dirty hair, chin whiskers, tired, worn out, run ragged, jagged. everything harsh and extreme.
Ragged. Like a ragged doll. A torn shirt. An old house. An old house with creaky boards, dusty countertops and ragged curtains. Curtains that are the color of his eyes, green like grass, but now dull – ragged. Mold has made its mark; holes now penetrate the ragged curtains.
ragged, torn, wasted. a loved doll tossed aside, a worn out blanket still cherished. ragged breath after a long run, passion. the word itself leaves you feeling breathless. truly exasperated. ragged is as ragged does.
What an unpleasant word. Ragged. it reminds me of a destroyed piece of cloth, something that was once beautiful and vivid, but now is only a memory of its outdated life
I always feel so ragged. Life just seems so meaningless, and then i realize that is actually, truly is. That doesn’t mean it’s not worth it though. I mean it’s all what we make it. It can, and will, end so quick and then it’s all over.
The edge of the blanket, frayed, worn, loved. Evidence of a lifetime of snuggles, tears sopped up, sweet dreams granted. A child’s best friend.
The sweater is ragged. The edges are torn and the bottom is falling apart. Kinda like my life right now. It’s ragged. It’s broken. When will it get better?
Ragged scars and ragged clothing, the signs of someone who has seen many hardships. Hard times make ragged people, ragged people have done hard things. Hard things come in all shapes and sizes, and raggedness can show itself in many ways. A smile, a rip or tear, a word, a laugh. So many things can be ragged, can be twisted and almost broken.
she had a ragged tooth hanging over her lip. it was disgusting. i wondered how she had gotten it. my brother thought it was beautiful and gave her character. i thought how could she go out of the house like that. then i thought, was kind of trauma led to this tooth? was she battered by her boyfriend? is she a battered wife? or did she just
I came upon a small girl once. Tattered dress matching her ragged doll. The doll had a stain on it’s chest that resembled a small spider. The girl had the same one over her heart.
if you are like me, you lie in bed and complain yo yourself about how it is so cold and life is unfair. take a step back, there are people in ragged torn clothes on the streets. if you were they, wouldnt you rather be youself now??
i wear these clothes every day because i don’t have any other. i know people look at me. i know people talk about me. is it my choice?
well, i mean i guess it is, but seriously. who wants to see my fat ass naked?…a lot of people do. a LOT of people…do.
A ripped hirt. a ragged doll. Something diry, mis-placed. Perhaps a house that had been abandoned. dusty floorboards, creaking doors and ragged curtains. mold has eaten them. through them. holes appear here and there, the color now dull and witewashed. or maybe that torn shirt. perhaps red, the color of ripe tomatoes. the color of blood from a pin-pricked finger.
the old, ragged, blood red flag hung low on the horizon as the hundreds of soldiers lay face down on the dying grass. The war was over for them, but it would never be for their families. Their ragged officers uniforms would be sent back home to forever remind them of what happened on that day. The day when death knocked on everyone’s door.
Ragged, like the fence I crashed through into the street in front my neighbors house when I was 13. My knees, ragged from the scabs. My voice, ragged at 17 from too many cigarettes. My heart, ragged from years of abuse. “Ragged Wood” my favorite Fleet Foxes song.
The dog had a ragged tail. How it got that way could not be explained. The dog ravaged and pillaged in search of home, but instead ran from dog catchers and people in red. He didn’t like sleeping on cellophane, but wanted a bed with his name engraved.
The ragged dress she wore told the story of her life. She wasn’t born rich but she had spent part of her life fairly affluent. If only her husband hadn’t been such an asshole, She should have listened to her mother, this time; that one time. Her life would have been so much better.
The girl stepped outside dressed in a ragged white tee shirt and her mothers old pair of blue jeans. She was quietly munching on an apple. After climbing down her front steps the girl hailed the yellow cab that was zooming her way. “TAXI!” she yelped. The cab was warm and toasty and smelt like authentic leather. She starred out the window and counted every tree that passed. As the cab picked up speed the objects outside became a soft green blur.
ragged clothes from goodwill, once were brand new and made someone happy enough to wear them over and over again until they are nearly threadbare. ragged edge, that dark place, that hole that you are afraid of going to because of depression.
The stone wasn’t too particular,
it looked just like the rest.
But this one, this is the one I used to release all my tension, and why I’m sitting in the cell I am now.
It looked a lot like the others, but this stone, this stone cost him his life, and cost me mine.
Don’t go around with a ragged rock.
ragged is a word that can describe the appereance of something or someone. eg: William’s favorite pants are becoming ragged. or All the long days in the sun are running him ragged.
how appropriate, no really, when the threads are bare already and the strands hang down lower than ever before, thank you for identifying just what it is I am
LIke the little doll you used to play with as a littl ekid? i enver really had one but all myf riends had them, they used atoo all be in love with them. kinda like guys were in love with their action figures, but lest be hoenst, they were really dolls. dolls with abs and arm and leg muscles. everyone was jealous of those. i want a barbie, not really i never eally played with them. i used to rip their heads off in preschool with my friend. my mom would get mad at me. dont think, just write, thats what oyou said
His ragged breathing disturbed the air, warm puffs of air squeezing around icicles and underneath frozen fringes. His shoulders shook, an uneven sin equation graphed into reality. Shutting his eyes, he prayed for relief.
the man crossed my path looking terribly disheveled, dressed in ragged clothes, looking like he had just crawled from under a rock of some sort, or maybe from underneath the bridge across the park.
Out of the ragged book fell a letter.
don’t ever forget the last word of her sentences. she always means the last word, but the rest of the sentence is bullshit. forget the rest, just focus on the last word.
She didn’t know what this meant. Am I the girl? She thought.
Ragged loins don’t
ragged hands won’t take hold
ragged minds can’t
Her clothes were torn, her shoes gone. But her smile, her eyes, they were as bright as the sun. Her hair was cropped short and hastily stuffed behind her ears. She pulled along an old, torn suitcase stuffed with clothes, money, and an old beat-up sketchbook, along with a precariously short pencil and a knife.
ragged is the color black
ragged is the color blue
ragged is the new emotion
ragged is me,
when i see you
ragged is the color red
ragged is another hue
raggged is the feeling
ragged is you
Sometimes, I remember the clothes I wore as a little kid at playtime outside: they were mud encrusted, and smelled like the grass, the summer breeze, and of spilled lemonade.
Then I remember, those were the only clothes I had. But they were well loved.
Ragged, dirty and well worn. The young girl’s favorite jacket was beginning to show signs of her tough love. It is funny how often we treat the things we care for so badly.
Ragged ,torn, uneven, sharp and splintery. Ragged a not too smooth edge of everything. What is ragged?
ragged blade
ragged cloths worn by a homeless man looking for love
ragged times of heart ache and pain that we all have gone threw weither we have had someone hold us threw those times or not.
ragged truns in life that lead us to were we need to go.
Iwas on a ragged edge after witnessing the murder of three people. Iwas simply going shopping and out of no where this crazy man began shootingg at the polical folks.