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[realexplodingcat]

Today I wrote a poem using other people's words. The non-italicized words are my own, the rest are from three other sources (one of which I actually don't know if there's an author to credit). Bonus points to those who recognize the other two. Should be fairly obvious if you like the same sorta stuff I do.

Home is where the heart is.
The heart is under three planks from the flooring of the chamber.
It was a low, dull, quick sound,
beating a rhythm to the vision that's in my head,
a beat to the sight of me lying.
That unmistakable sound I know so well.
Tear up the planks!--here, here!--it is the beating of his hideous heart!

Comments

[explodingcat.livejournal.com]

You got the easy one. The other one isn't so easy unless you pay attention to the lyrics of a certain contemporary rock band. I know there's at least two people on my friends list that would know it. One of them didn't post, but I already know he recognized it.