This first poem is one that I wrote that I was originally going to use in the Maximum Ride writing thingy....

EARTH

The earth cries

Because of us

Trying to get our attention

No one watches

The earth tries to roar 

It's murderous roars

That rumble and shake our houses

No one seems to listen

We don't seem to care

We think it is rare

When the Earth can hurt us back

We seem to like hurting her

We pollute her air

We litter her beaches

We oil her oceans

We cut down her trees and mountains

No, the earth doesn't like it

She cries up mighty storms

But, we don't get scared

Because we know how to fight back

She wants us to cry too

But only some do

And that includes 

the Flock and me

All the earth wants 

Is to breathe easily

To smile and gleam and shine 

That is why she cries

This is just a random one....

RAINBOWS

Millions of colors lined up like soldiers

Marching across the damp blue sky

Revealing the happiness

There goes the rainbow

Rainbows represent the good in life

No one can destroy the good, just try

It is beautiful, making no sounds

Showing that there can be peace in the world.

See you next time rainbows. 




LIFE

Teardrop streams down your face

The moon drifts across space

Both relate to

Life

Words and hate mix

A simple selection of cruelty and wrong doing

What might be felt is a throwing of bricks

Will just be words

Teardrop streams down your face

Stars and galaxies in a tight fix

All connected in a pot brewing

Clinging, clanging, clashing like a pile of sticks

Is just silence interwoven with beauty

The moon drifts across space

Yelling, screaming, cursing and flicks

You don’t know what you’re viewing

Colors, memories, and dreams spill across the burned pix

Nothing left to keep

A teardrop streams down your face

Hidden beneath all is six

Magnificent things screwing

With your emotions and conflicts

Beauty beyond compare like the moon

The moon drifts across space

Life

Relates to everything

The moon drifts across space

A teardrop streams down your face

Isn't it scary to think that one day, all of this will be gone?
By 'all of this' I mean everything that we hold near and dear to our hearts.
At the moment, we think social networks and friends are what we care about most.
But, in a blink of an eye, all of that can change.


One day, things can be jolly good and fine.
And, then the next day, it falls apart.
All of a sudden, you feel disconnected, broken, abandoned.
All of a sudden, you don't even know who you are anymore.


All that you know is who you used to be, and then you dwell on the im-positives.
But, it takes a few weeks of crying and hating everything until you realize that life isn't over.
Yes, you were shunned out of existence by the ones you supposedly called your friends...
But, its not the end.


It's actually just the beginning. A new one. 


I grew a plant on my windowsill.
It was a parsley plant.
And, it took a while to start growing.
I felt so upset because all of my other friends' parsley plants were huge and luscious.
And, mine was just a bunch of mud and seeds.
Then, one day, I saw the first green speck of a plant bud.
I was so excited and happy. 
I knew that I wasn't a failure.
And, things in my life seemed great at the moment. 
My friends were happy.
I was happy.
Life was happy.
The plant stayed nice, and it grew bigger and bigger, until one day it outgrew the cup!
But then, things took a turn for the worst.
First, the texts came. Then, the awkwardness. Then, the tears.
Until, it came to this moment of my life. 
I had gotten so caught up with my own life, that I hadn't cared for the plant as much as I should've.
And now, the plants dead.


I'm sorry plant.


To lighten the mood, I shall end with a joke!!!


What's brown and stick-like?


.
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.
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.
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A STICK!!!!!




lol

I feel this way constantly. All I truly want and need is sympathy. I just want there to be one person that I can cry on their shoulder, and then have them just pat me on the back the whole time and tell me that things don't get better, but they can certainly not get any worse. Of course, the only person that I know that would truly do that for anyone is me. (Not to be all self-centered and all)

People say that if you do this, you are strong. But, is it true? Or, are you just a child who can't forgive and forget. You can't just move on in life. You can't be someone that people don't admire for your courage and strength for pretending that nothings wrong. Who are you?

Why would other people think that being strong means that you can hurt them? Just because a wall is said to be very strong, doesn't mean you should throw everything you've got at it. Just because the Titanic was said to be unsinkable, doesn't mean that it should purposely hit every iceberg that comes within its path. Just because someone is said to be strong doesn't mean you should crush them and conquer them with horrible words. It doesn't make them strong, nor does it make you strong.  

My Response: Can you seriously not hear me, or do you not care to listen?

Smile and laugh. Then, once you get home, cry. That's my best tip. 

Could the Jewish mothers and fathers do anything as their children were ripped from their arms and sent to different concentration camps during the holocaust? Then, why can't we accept the fact that we can't change anything if this happens as well?

Just believe me.

That totally summed up middle school!! 

I would just do what I would want them to do to me. Hug me, and tell me it could be worse. 

If only we could all read people's minds....

TRUE DAT!

TRUE DAT AGAIN!

'nuff said. 

Mine? How'd you know I had one... o.O 

U Smile.

Justin Bieber

Tacky but still brings tears to my eyes when I hear it. 

Maybe if you stopped trying to be perfect I could stare at you without being blinded by your huge ego, and thick, dark lies. 

I let you vent. 

For hours.

Months.

Years.

I need a minute now.

But, now you don't have time. 

Sorry to bother you while you are stuck in the foggy perfectness of your whole life. 

Across the large unknown, full of darkness and depressing sadness, at the bottom of the trench of loneliness, I see you lay crying. What do I do? Without a moment of even contemplating, I march across the land, not caring about my own misery or the torture I endure, only about you. I care about you so much that I would help you out in any situation. I run down the trench, and lay down at the bottom with you.
I let you cry on my shoulder. I let you whisper your sadness into my ears. I let you take my happy thoughts and bring them into your own self. I let you build up your strength again. I give you everything you need.
By the time I am done helping you, you are able to crawl back out of the trench and across the land to the place where happiness lies. But, here I lay. Now that I have given you all that I had, I am not strong enough to crawl back out of the trench. I just lay here, now.
Full of loneliness.
And sadness.
Why don't you come back? Why don't you come and help me back up? I give you help, the least you could do is give me some too. Right?
Well, I guess not.
You just leave me.
So, I sit here.
Not knowing what to do.
Coldness and darkness begin seeping through my veins and start becoming me.
Then, one day I see it.
Right there!
Is it true?
Is it real?
A light.
A bright light!
It's at the top of the trench. Does it see me? Is it here to help me? Is it you?
Maybe you have learned from your old, cruel ways, or maybe, just maybe...
I have found my own angel to take care of me. 

How can life seem fine when its actually crumbling down all around you?
You feel like everything is fine and dandy, and then one day it hits you.
You feel crushed, as if everyone else was aware of the changes occurring, and you didn't.
It feels like everyone was aware that the earth was collapsing, tearing away the ground right beneath them, leaving them above a pit of nothingness that they eventually have to fall in. But, they move just in time. And, then they watch as the ground tears away under you, and don't warn you. 
Then, you just f
                           a
                             l
                              l in.
At the bottom, you lay.
Crying day after day.
Because that's all that's left to do.
When it's dark, and it's just you.
Alone, at the bottom.
Nobody caring to help you out.
That's how it's like,
When no one cares a whole lot.


Words.
They always seem to crumple up my thoughts and feelings, and toss them into the burning fire searing through my broken heart.
How come they have so much power over me? How are they able to control me in the way that they do?
Words always seem to be there when I am happy. They seem to inspire me to become even more happy, or seem to make me think harder about the life I have, and how I'm living it. But, sometimes, words just seem to turn good, happy days into depressing, lonely ones.
Words always seem to be there when I am sad too. They seem to try to comfort me, but fail miserably. They don't seem to understand that they don't always help. Sometimes, they just hurt.
Words. Have. Effects.
Don't use them if all you are going to do is cover up the sun with a towel of rain clouds.
It creates a war with no winning side, with the knowledge that there is nothing worth fighting for.
It just leaves behind ash, destruction, and tears.
Words.

      How do you want to be remembered? Do you want people to remember you as an important leader, or a shy sit-in-the-back-of-the-room person? Do you want people to smile when they look back on the memories you two shared, or groan and roll their eyes? The only way we can accomplish our dreams on how we are remembered is to change ourselves. Although it's not as easy as lying and pretending to be someone else, it makes you feel better when you look back on your life. It might just make you smile.

      If I could change the world in one way, I would change the way we see and remember memories. I would make memories still photos. No conversations or actions. Just pictures. The truth would be fully explained, and there would be no confusion that someone is different than they truly are because of something they had said once a long time ago. You could be able to see right through their tricks and schemes. All you would see is them.
The real them. 
Just because of one picture.

     I don't like losing. No one does. But, when it happens to me, I feel broken. More so than others. It crushes me up like a soda can, and throws me out into the street. Then, people walk around me as if I am not there. It makes me truly feel pain in my heart. It shows how useless I am.
The monster who lives within me seems to growl and try to punish me in any and every way possible. All because I lost a little game.
      But, once you lose so many in a row, it really does hurt. You don't seem to feel the courage to stand up and try again. It's because you just don't want to be thrown back onto the ground again. So, why not just stay lying there? Fallen. Lost. Unaccepted.
That's one way....
     Another way is to accept you lost, fall to the ground, but get back up. The pain you feel as you crash to the ground could energize you- make you want to try even harder. Only strong people can do this. Do you believe you're strong?


Excerpt:

I run down the long hallway until I reach an open door. I stop a moment, and take a deep breath. I feel my heart race as I take a few more breaths. In and out. Pushing out all my fears, worries, and not to mention carbon dioxide. I breath in new fears and worries as well as tension. I close my eyes, hoping to imagine that I was anywhere but here. I imagine I was in a meadow. There are flowers, millions of them. They are all purple and blue; my two favorite colors. And, among all of them, is one yellow carnation. Holding that flower in his hands, is the one, the only, Clay Hale. His eyes sparkle a bright shade of green that cannot be contracted even from the beautiful meadow he stands in. His tall, dark shape shields the flowers from all evil. He is like an angel. He is an angel. But, angel sounds kinda girly. So, he is a knight. A bold, strong, fearless knight. Clay’s awesomeness brings a smile to my face, giving me all the confidence in the world. With this confidence, I lift my hand to the door, and push it open. And, then in I walk, strutting with happiness standing on my shoulders. 

“Samantha? Your late. Sit down. Now, how are you feeling today?” the dark man asks me. Oh, how I hate going to the guidance counselor.