She fell on top of me, burrowed her face in my fluff, hands smacking the down inside of me, legs kicking, wriggling, growing restless at the foot. Every night I gave her comfort, she told me her secrets, whispered in the meekest of voices of the taunts and the teases and the tortures of the day.

I get hit in the face... a lot. Dodge balls, basketballs, volleyballs, tennis balls, doors, walls, bird crap, baseball bats, rogue hands, flying sand, and just about anything else you can think of. Everything just seems to have an affinity for my face.

Bullets flew through zombies like needles through cloth, and doing as much damage. The four soldiers were the last of their platoon; the rest had long since fallen to the swarms of the undead.

“It’s your turn,” Addison grumbled, her voice muffled by the pillow she was planted into. Her eyes were crusted with sleep and she shifted her head over a little to avoid the drool puddle she had accumulated during the night.

Scream. yellin all the time. a chill pill Is what you need to find some. I like to bury myself very deep within my mind. You say i’m mental, but i’m sentimental when it comes down to my rhymes. you just take my rhyme book and throw them away all time.

You say it makes no difference who I am

and how I choose to express it.

You’ll say this through clenched teeth.

You’ll say this and you’ll tell yourself

It’s better that I take my time -nowbetter

that I get it out of my system.

I’ve taken this road

So many times

Seen these things

Over and again

I’m getting tired

Of singing the same old lines

And getting to the fork in the path

And thinking it’s the end

I’d just like to thank you

When you go to a new school

you just want to be cool

And you want to make friends

But when you get near you

always seem to hear

“man that kid is weird”

She draws them on

Her hands

Her beautiful hands

She draws them on

her legs

Her lovely legs

She draws them all over

her body

Her beautiful body

They watch her

They tell her

Does it end where it all began?

Since the death of my mother

Something inside is broken

from deep deep

within

I feel like I’ve sinned

Thoughts ramble through my head

I feel like I too want to be dead

On a cold February evening I learned one of life’s biggest lessons: appreciate what you have at present because once it’s taken away from you, all you’ll have left are memories. For me that ‘it’ was my fifteen month old niece, Bano.

When you look into a window

What do you see?

A face staring back at you,

As happy as can be

You ask the face a question

Why do you smile so much?

A soldier dies on the battlefield on a beach in Normandy just barely old enough to shave and

just off papas knee buried in the ground with theses final words

[Chorus]

Dear ma and pa im doin fine here overseas I send my love from me and John and the

Have you ever felt pain?

Pain so deep inside of you

Pain only you can feel.

Growing up I had times of physical

and mental pain,

through it however, I have gained.

“A breath, a sigh, she closes her eyes,

hearing the forest saunas around her,

yonder the sum set the sky on fire,

burning, burning,

the stars/lew higher...”

While walking in the art store today.

I overheard a color pencil box

With many things to say

“I don’t like the Red,” said the Orange

and Green said, “Nor do I”

and no one likes Yellow

But no one knows just why

I’m a new york kid. there i was born and raised. outside on the block that’s where i spent most of my days, but now my vision’s in a haze. my mom said, what i’m going through is just a phase, but i know now that’s not the case.

Hatred melts away

Madness peels back from my mind

Wrongs are diluted

Accompany me

To a place so far away

Let us reside there

Sit in wait of me

Yet we are still together

Take long walks with me

We are all rugged people,

and through out soft degrees.

Many a mean have shouted,

Many have fallen too their knees.

We think we’re at war with others,

But wrong because we are at war

with ourselves,

It was raining outside, and our weary Traveler was on a gravel road, walking. With a large sack slung over his shoulder, he crept along at quite a slow pace, monotonously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He had no cloak, and so he was drenched in the cold rain.

Come with me into these memories

Where grown-ups are not allowed

Across the deep concrete river

Where in giant hollow owl’s eyes

You can hear the hidden bears’ growls.

Beneath high branches curved like arches

Their leaves intertwined

Snow is deceiving. It likes to play hard-to-get. Like so many other things in life, I have developed a love-hate relationship with the whole idea of snow. The “dog days” of summer reach their finale, the leaves start falling, and everyone excitedly awaits the first snowfall.

Once upon a time, in a land far far away, there were two kingdoms. The Thintassia Kingdom was led by King Blue Man, and all of the people tried to be like King Blue Man and eat as little as possible. “Skinny is beautiful, skinny is beautiful,” the King would exclaim; the crowd would go wild.

“Davidson! That tree is flying! It’s going to crash into your house,” Gary warned me. “You’re right, Mr. Franklin, and here, it’s coming in for a landing,” I replied with calm reserve.

There once was a man named Ed. Ed had a wife and three kids and worked at a very successful job. His life was perfect. But as time went on, his children grew up and went off on their own to form their own families, but soon Ed became a grandfather. And once again, life was perfect.

 It was quiet like it always was. Not dead quiet, you could still hear the waves and the insects. I sat on the beach, my hands clasped around my knees. I had buried the last of them in the cavern, then sealed it shut. Now it was just me.

Dear Mr. Uber-Goth,

I don’t pretend to understand the intricacies within the mind of any literary genius, but I’ve got to let it out...your endless pessimism is bringing me down.

I was blind and you opened my eyes.

I was blind to deceivers, and you showed

me them. I was blind to true love, and you showed

me it. I was blind to forgiveness and you did it for me.

I was blind to the truth, and you revealed it all. I was blind

Get behind the eight ball she said, which I had yet to understand. She said

it meant to look ahead to the future. I sat

there contemplating this saying for a while, and as I fell into

a deep slumber my thoughts ran free. Thinking of our future--

In solitude of the night, with help of

the early storm, you find peace and

utter relaxation. Tearing down the

limits of your imagination, making

room for the inspiration, the

imaginative power of your soul.