This poem is about what it's like to be a teenager.
There are certain memories that flash before my eyes. When they do, my heart races and I have an anxiety attack. This poem was written after a recent attack of memories.
It was a traffic jam and certainly my time to cram for a test coming anon. The police officer, with so much time to spare, flicks his arms in the air blows his whistle, stops our lancer, and tells us of a 10K A rush of blood...
Gun shots rang out of their machinery wombs. Cries, whoops, shrieks, screams, yelps, yells, and yawps fascinated this scene of uproar. Such cacophonies, unfortunately, were not clamors of jubilance, but of calamity. Blood shattered; tears streamed;...
Last year, my United States' history teacher asked us to write a piece of literature resembeling aspects of the Great Depression. I think that writing a facts-filled paper will make such a significant issue seem tritely over-repetitive. Therefore, I...
The history behind the four seasons is not a scientific discovery afterall. Rather, it is a mysterious battle between the Sun,Cloud,and Chief of Winds. Enjoy!