You're still seventeen,

Ever since 1918

But, how can it be that you're this way?

It's hard for me to comprehend in just one day.

I must admit, I was feeling blue,

Until I saw the perfect shoe.

I looked at it, and I cried,

"Look at those shoes, so lovely and new!"

My mother sadly denied,

But I stood up and defied,

"I want those shoes; they are the best!"

And so she decided to abide.

I rushed in, ready for the test

Those shoes were better than the rest

I said, "Those shoes are mine this time!"

And so I bought them with lots of zest.

  12/13/08

   freewrite journal

Monday, Monday,

I wish it was Sunday

Mondays can make me tired and dreary

I blank out,

No one can hear me

I drift off sometimes,

Starting to think of rhymes

On Mondays I'm grumpy and sometimes want to scream out loud

But the weeks gotta start someday,

somehow.

Putt. Putt. Putt.

  A squadron of British Sopwith Camel bi-planes from WWI lift off from a mowed grass runway, not giving a thought about what good will come their way. They rise into the air and scan the area for the infamous Red Baron. He has slaughtered many in his German Fokker Dr. I tri-plane.

                                                                       I see a Limo ,

      As they stared down at Tamisha's dead companion, Kenya called for the others to join them. They came in silence, realizing what had happened.  After the long pause, Shaintea broke the silence. "well," she started. "I guess that's it then." She didn't sound like it. Her voice was sullen and lost. Tamisha didn't care. "That's it? That's it!" She shrieked. "How could you say that! He's been with me for over five hundred years-" Her voice came to an abrupt halt, as Tamisha realized what she had said.

My Own Place