The Best دن Of My Life (1 of Them)
I was at my uncle's house, waiting for my mom to come back. She was picking up my siblings from school. I was 4 yours old at the time. I was in my uncle's bedroom, as usual. And I was talking to him, as usual.
"Will, who's stuffed animals are on the bed?" I asked curiously. Of course that was a stupid question, but remember I was just a little girl. And I wasn't the brightest one eithier. My uncle spun around in his spinning chair and looked at me. "Mine. Why?" he had the nerve to ask. My uncle was the type of man that would give آپ the world if he could. He even reffered to me as his own child, and spoiled the heck outta me and my siblings. I was dying to have one of the stuffed animals. Any one. I didn't care if it was the bunny in boxers, the frog in a king's outfit, یا the other one I strangely don't remember. I just wanted one. Even now before he died I loved it when he gave me a stuffed animal. I have tons from him.
I couldn't say anything. I wasn't the shy type, but I've been told tons of times not to ask anybody for anything. Plus, at that age I wasn't the best kid in the world. I was mean to him. I threw tamtrums, screamed, and once kicked him. I even refused to disobey him. But that story's for another time. The he asked the big question. "Do آپ want one?" My eyes lit up like glitter. My eyes were like the sun when he asked that. Blinding. "YES! I WANT ONE SO BADLY!" I yelled almost at the سب, سب سے اوپر of my lungs. He didn't mind giving me one. He handed me the frog in the king outfit. I was so happy that day. If I were allowed to I would've jumped on his بستر in joy.
Later on that دن I misplaced my new gift. My mom was ہوم talking to my uncle's parents (my uncle deicded to take care of them. Don't get the wrong idea.), my sister was on my uncle'd بستر laying down, watching tv. My brother was playing the gamecube. I was crying. I ran up to my uncle. "WILLIAM!" I whined. I was crying hard. I couldnt even calm down! "Why are آپ crying?" Will asked me, which made me cry harder! "I LOST MY KING FROG!!" I screamed so loudly that my sister was laughing (she can be mean sometimes)! "It's just a frog. Gosh!" My brother کہا without turning around. I cried even HARDER!
"Don't cry, we'll look for him together. Listen. I hear him crying." Will was calm the entire time. We looked everywhere and ten منٹ later I found my frog under the bed. I immedietly stopped crying and hugged my uncle. I just had to. Everyone loved hugging him!
Later that day, before I left, my uncle کہا "That frog is me watching آپ when your at home." I believed him. I mean, I didn't think he was lying. I went home, happy and excited to tell my dad the whole story.
Even now I still have that frog. I took him to puerto rico with me, and even in the car when I was afraid of thunder and lighting. For those of آپ who don't know, my uncle's dead now. He passed away on January 2011 due to دل problems. Now, my frog is on my bed, watching me sleep peacefully. I swear that if I had to sacrifice everything but 1 thing, I would keep that frog. I treasure that frog مزید then anything in the world. I've grown attactched to him, and I promised myself that no matter how upset I am, I'll continue to live my life. I'll try to be happy. I'll acheive my dreams and pass school. Because I know that that's what he, the best man in the world, would want from me.
I was at my uncle's house, waiting for my mom to come back. She was picking up my siblings from school. I was 4 yours old at the time. I was in my uncle's bedroom, as usual. And I was talking to him, as usual.
"Will, who's stuffed animals are on the bed?" I asked curiously. Of course that was a stupid question, but remember I was just a little girl. And I wasn't the brightest one eithier. My uncle spun around in his spinning chair and looked at me. "Mine. Why?" he had the nerve to ask. My uncle was the type of man that would give آپ the world if he could. He even reffered to me as his own child, and spoiled the heck outta me and my siblings. I was dying to have one of the stuffed animals. Any one. I didn't care if it was the bunny in boxers, the frog in a king's outfit, یا the other one I strangely don't remember. I just wanted one. Even now before he died I loved it when he gave me a stuffed animal. I have tons from him.
I couldn't say anything. I wasn't the shy type, but I've been told tons of times not to ask anybody for anything. Plus, at that age I wasn't the best kid in the world. I was mean to him. I threw tamtrums, screamed, and once kicked him. I even refused to disobey him. But that story's for another time. The he asked the big question. "Do آپ want one?" My eyes lit up like glitter. My eyes were like the sun when he asked that. Blinding. "YES! I WANT ONE SO BADLY!" I yelled almost at the سب, سب سے اوپر of my lungs. He didn't mind giving me one. He handed me the frog in the king outfit. I was so happy that day. If I were allowed to I would've jumped on his بستر in joy.
Later on that دن I misplaced my new gift. My mom was ہوم talking to my uncle's parents (my uncle deicded to take care of them. Don't get the wrong idea.), my sister was on my uncle'd بستر laying down, watching tv. My brother was playing the gamecube. I was crying. I ran up to my uncle. "WILLIAM!" I whined. I was crying hard. I couldnt even calm down! "Why are آپ crying?" Will asked me, which made me cry harder! "I LOST MY KING FROG!!" I screamed so loudly that my sister was laughing (she can be mean sometimes)! "It's just a frog. Gosh!" My brother کہا without turning around. I cried even HARDER!
"Don't cry, we'll look for him together. Listen. I hear him crying." Will was calm the entire time. We looked everywhere and ten منٹ later I found my frog under the bed. I immedietly stopped crying and hugged my uncle. I just had to. Everyone loved hugging him!
Later that day, before I left, my uncle کہا "That frog is me watching آپ when your at home." I believed him. I mean, I didn't think he was lying. I went home, happy and excited to tell my dad the whole story.
Even now I still have that frog. I took him to puerto rico with me, and even in the car when I was afraid of thunder and lighting. For those of آپ who don't know, my uncle's dead now. He passed away on January 2011 due to دل problems. Now, my frog is on my bed, watching me sleep peacefully. I swear that if I had to sacrifice everything but 1 thing, I would keep that frog. I treasure that frog مزید then anything in the world. I've grown attactched to him, and I promised myself that no matter how upset I am, I'll continue to live my life. I'll try to be happy. I'll acheive my dreams and pass school. Because I know that that's what he, the best man in the world, would want from me.
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Tick, tick, tick
That sound, constant in my head,
A sound that haunts every mind,
A sound that brings fear,
A clock,
Ticking the سیکنڈ of your life away,
Making life shorter and shorter with every tick,
Drawing death nearer and nearer,
But آپ should not live in fear,
For life is too short for such a thing,
Some people waste these precious seconds,
Others treasure them, making sure that no tick is wasted,
The clock ticks on,
But as this sound is registered,
What do آپ do?
Tick, tick, tick
Three مزید seconds, gone, like that,
Did آپ use them well?
Live life,
For life is too short to spend these سیکنڈ in hell.
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Tick, tick, tick
That sound, constant in my head,
A sound that haunts every mind,
A sound that brings fear,
A clock,
Ticking the سیکنڈ of your life away,
Making life shorter and shorter with every tick,
Drawing death nearer and nearer,
But آپ should not live in fear,
For life is too short for such a thing,
Some people waste these precious seconds,
Others treasure them, making sure that no tick is wasted,
The clock ticks on,
But as this sound is registered,
What do آپ do?
Tick, tick, tick
Three مزید seconds, gone, like that,
Did آپ use them well?
Live life,
For life is too short to spend these سیکنڈ in hell.
His Melody
To quiet the tears
She sings him to sleep
When the morning has dawned
He can’t be roused from a rest so deep
She sings him to sleep
Night after night
And when he does not awaken
Her will to go on grows slight
She sits and waits while he’s away
She remembers his laugh and smile
Oh what a joy to see his joy
She lifts up a prayer “May I see him in a short while?”
She sits at the window and waits
The sun sets slowly behind the ہل, لندن
The others say hello but she doesn’t hear
She is waiting to make the tears still
The time has come she cannot wait
She sets out to see her boy
To stop the tears
To bring him joy
But the tears she stills are not his
They fall from her eyes
She sings his lullaby again tonight
As she kisses the stone and her son good bye
To quiet the tears
She sings him to sleep
When the morning has dawned
He can’t be roused from a rest so deep
She sings him to sleep
Night after night
And when he does not awaken
Her will to go on grows slight
She sits and waits while he’s away
She remembers his laugh and smile
Oh what a joy to see his joy
She lifts up a prayer “May I see him in a short while?”
She sits at the window and waits
The sun sets slowly behind the ہل, لندن
The others say hello but she doesn’t hear
She is waiting to make the tears still
The time has come she cannot wait
She sets out to see her boy
To stop the tears
To bring him joy
But the tears she stills are not his
They fall from her eyes
She sings his lullaby again tonight
As she kisses the stone and her son good bye
Dear record of my misfortune I was correct. Today I walked into class and saw a huge pile of letters on my desk. When I opened them I realized that it was hate mail. It was so stupid, people were getting angry at me for what I did to Jessica when it was her fault! They were saying things like : Die Emo کتیا, کتيا die, bitchy whore. That last تبصرہ doesn't even apply to me! I haven't even had my first kiss and they are saying this stuff to me! There was one letter that was bot mean even though I don't know who sent it. Inside it کہا roses are red violets are blue I don't now why they hurt you, if آپ want I'll tell them to can it, all because I love آپ Janet. I don't know who wrote آپ love poem rhyme thing but I love آپ too!
Is It True آپ Lie?
Is It True آپ Hate Me?
Is It True آپ Want Him?
Is It True You're My Best Friend?
Is It True آپ Enjoy Hurting Me?
Is It True آپ Like Me Crying?
Is It True آپ Talk Behind My Back?
Is It True آپ Tell People Our Bussiness?
Is It True I Hurt You?
Is It True آپ Back Stabbed Me?
Is It True آپ Let Me Believe The Lies?
Is It True آپ Let Me Call آپ My True Bestfriend When آپ Weren't?
Is It True.....?
This is A Poem Hope Yuh Enjoy It Btw Tell Me What Yuh Think And This Is Just About Me Gettin Hurt After Being Stupid Enough To Believe Her Lies She Wasnt A True Bestfriend
Is It True آپ Hate Me?
Is It True آپ Want Him?
Is It True You're My Best Friend?
Is It True آپ Enjoy Hurting Me?
Is It True آپ Like Me Crying?
Is It True آپ Talk Behind My Back?
Is It True آپ Tell People Our Bussiness?
Is It True I Hurt You?
Is It True آپ Back Stabbed Me?
Is It True آپ Let Me Believe The Lies?
Is It True آپ Let Me Call آپ My True Bestfriend When آپ Weren't?
Is It True.....?
This is A Poem Hope Yuh Enjoy It Btw Tell Me What Yuh Think And This Is Just About Me Gettin Hurt After Being Stupid Enough To Believe Her Lies She Wasnt A True Bestfriend
Her eyes were آگ کے, آگ red,
as if they were
lit from anger.
I dont understand
why آپ are
mad at me.
Why آپ shoot
those harsh words
at me.
Aimed like bullets,
piercing my soul.
And It cant heal.
I never can dodge them.
The words hit me,
and I fall back.
My دوستوں ask me:
"What's wrong?"
"Can I help?"
But they cant help.
Because I dont understand,
why آپ are mad.
Why do آپ have to do
what آپ do to me?
Why does it give آپ
joy to harm me?
Why?
Why are people bullies?
Why dont my دوستوں take action?
Why cant آپ tell me WHY?
as if they were
lit from anger.
I dont understand
why آپ are
mad at me.
Why آپ shoot
those harsh words
at me.
Aimed like bullets,
piercing my soul.
And It cant heal.
I never can dodge them.
The words hit me,
and I fall back.
My دوستوں ask me:
"What's wrong?"
"Can I help?"
But they cant help.
Because I dont understand,
why آپ are mad.
Why do آپ have to do
what آپ do to me?
Why does it give آپ
joy to harm me?
Why?
Why are people bullies?
Why dont my دوستوں take action?
Why cant آپ tell me WHY?
Streetlamps, houses, gates, remotes, books, CDs and televisions. Brothers. Pairs. Each has a twin. In this chaotic place of materials the world has come to be, everything has a brother. But brothers are family. And family is connected somehow; if not سے طرف کی blood, then سے طرف کی what?
Energy.
Look hard. At everything that has a brother. A line of energy casts a connection between the two. The energy, with its harsh glares and cold looks creates the strongest and most complex bonds. Strong because of their brotherhood. Complex because of its invisibility. For there is power in invisibility. Cold, cruel power. The power to be a persecutor with no chance of being a victim. The power to twist and squeeze but not feel the wrenching pain of your twists.
Now, آپ ask, what is left? Cruel, invisible energy. For a cruel, invisible world.
This is my first time writing in stream of consciousness. I know it's short but don't judge me too harshly.
Energy.
Look hard. At everything that has a brother. A line of energy casts a connection between the two. The energy, with its harsh glares and cold looks creates the strongest and most complex bonds. Strong because of their brotherhood. Complex because of its invisibility. For there is power in invisibility. Cold, cruel power. The power to be a persecutor with no chance of being a victim. The power to twist and squeeze but not feel the wrenching pain of your twists.
Now, آپ ask, what is left? Cruel, invisible energy. For a cruel, invisible world.
This is my first time writing in stream of consciousness. I know it's short but don't judge me too harshly.