lilredwritinghood13

To Write Ideas running around in my head Can't keep them straight Can't keep them still to organize them They run and they tramp and they storm Yelling and screaming and telling me things They all want to be heard All these stories They all want their part in this world What do I do when I can't control them? Will they burst forth all on their own? How do I make sure they don't make me crazy? An idea then comes upon me An idea to help me control these ideas Write them all down the idea says to me Write them down with aid of pen and page I grab a pen, it fits right in my hand I sit down with a sheet of warm paper Pen touches

Out the Window Unfocused. Uncaring. Sitting here bored out of my mind. I don't know why I'm here. I don't know why they make me stay. I sit here, not saying a word. I sit here, not learning a thing. I sit here thinking about all the things I'd rather do. Looking out the window I feel my mind wander. I see the trees swaying in the wind. I see the clouds making shapes to fit my fancy. I feel the warm rays of the sun on my skin. I feel the gentle breeze of spring play with my hair. They all seem to say the same thing to me. "Come play with us! Come out and join us!" I jump at the chance to escape this dank prison. And out the op

Darker than the Darkest Night Darker than the darkest night, Kill me now to end this plight. I cannot live with this pain, Stretching on like some endless plain. Thoughts of death crowd my head, My blood leaves a trail clear as crumbs of bread. I shall not live to see another day, Oh God, I don't want to die this way! Then I see him stalking towards me, My vision blurs, I see three. But not of him, he is clear. As clear as day, not a smear. His scythe I see shining dark, Coming to claim me, make its mark. The end, I think, it comes too soon, Not even am I granted one last boon. Away from Death I cannot crawl, I feel so help

Victorious Troy stared at the clock, the minute hand twitched ever so slowly to the next mark. He sighed and looked to the front of the room where the monotone teacher droned on completely oblivious to the fact that more than half of his class was not paying attention in the slightest. The shrill bell rang and all of the students leapt out of their chairs and raced through the door with their books at full speed. Troy was the first one out of the room and he rushed to his locker. Troy grabbed and exchanged books into and out of his bag and into his locker. He headed towards the front doors as he stuffed his iPod earphones into his ear and