Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.021 apart. A smaller distance means the lines are built more alike.

This number is read from the build of the lines. The bright edge is that number, carried outward until the pattern repeats.

What the Hell, I'm Me

by Richard

0.0356 − 0.3454i

Drawing the boundary…

Love is a Terrible Thing

by Grace Fallow Norton

0.0154 − 0.3384i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

Each poem scrolls on its own, so the two texts stay beside each other.

What the Hell, I'm Me

by Richard

I used to wake up with a heavy heart,
Afraid to take a step, to even start,
The shadows of my doubts would cloud my mind,
Held back by fear, just biding time.

But one day I saw the light break through,
A voice inside me said, "It's time for you,
To break these chains, to let it go,
The world is yours, just let it show."

I'm the only one that I can be,
Imperfect, but finally free,
I'm gonna live my life, it's mine to own,
Mistakes and all, I'll stand alone,
If you don't like it, you can go away,
I'm done with fear, I'm here to stay.

I stepped outside and breathed in deep,
The world was wide and mine to keep,
No longer bound by thoughts of falling,
I heard my dreams, urgently calling to me.

With every stride I took, I felt so free,
The past behind me now, a new decree,
I'll chase my dreams, I'll embrace the fight,
In every dawn to come, I'll find my light.

Every scar, every tear,
Has led me to this moment here,
I'm stronger now, I'm standing tall,
No more hiding, I won't stall.

So here I am, just as I am,
No more shadows, no more scam,
I'm living free, I'm feeling grand,
What the hell, I'm me, and I won't be damned.

What the hell, I'm me,
I'm living free, I'm feeling grand,
What the hell, I'm me,
I'm done with fear, I'm here to stay.

Love is a Terrible Thing

by Grace Fallow Norton

I went out to the farthest meadow,
I lay down in the deepest shadow;

And I said unto the earth, “Hold me,”
And unto the night, “O enfold me,”

And unto the wind petulantly
I cried, “You know not for you are free!”

And I begged the little leaves to lean
Low and together for a safe screen;

Then to the stars I told my tale:
“That is my home-light, there in the vale,

“And Ο, I know that I shall return,
But let me lie first mid the unfeeling fern.

“For there is a flame that has blown too near,
And there is a name that has grown too dear,
And there is a fear....”

And to the still hills and cool earth and far sky I made moan,
“The heart in my bosom is not my own!

“O would I were free as the wind on wing;
Love is a terrible thing!”

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