Dear Blog-Blog readers,

I wrote this poem for a newpaper that our creative writing class has been working on. Just to make everything clear, we all have pen-names so I used those in the poem. So it makes more sense, I am the Editor (Ebenezer Cliesbotham), the Brit is Jonathon Hill, Alecia is Markus Jack and Kendra is Jacques Nichols:) Anyway, hope everyone gets some fun out of it!
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I had a dream, it would seem
To be of Never-Almost, a land far and wide
It has blue grass, green sky, a Festival of Apple Pie
And the ocean turns purple at high tide.
The people there wear their hair
In the funniest, strangest, weirdest style
A cockatoo perch in one, mushrooms growing in some
One little man had curls piled on, I’m sure they reached a mile!
The Festival that I’ve mentioned before is held on the long north shore
Of the murkiest beach in the biggest town
While they act like slobs, apples are bobbed

A rather exaggerated account of being frustrated with an uncooperative poem.

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Obstinate words! refusing to rhyme,
Simply becoming a waste of my time.
Crumple the paper, drop the pen.
Don't even want to SEE that line again!

Why do I bother? The more I insist,
The more these stubborn syllables resist!
I'm no poet, why even try?
One more failed idea...I'll start to cry!

Lily

Four freedoms in America,
Freedom of expression,
You do not need to worry,
You may speak without discretion.

Foour freedoms in America,
The freedom of belief,
We may worship as we please,
Without fear or greif.

Four freedoms in America,
Freedom from want,
Working up through life,
Fear not that hunger will haunt.

Four freedoms in America,
Freedom from fear,
None need to worry,
For what they hold dear.

These are,
The four freedoms of America.

Once again I bring you sad news. A death has occurred. But perhaps I should return to the life of this dear creature.
He was a very happy being. Always bright and cherry. He lived his life in a very relaxed manner, never worried about a thing. This bug may have been the happiest creature you will ever hear of.
This little blue and yellow bug was loved by every other bug who knew him. His name was David.
David's life, (as I have already said) consisted of very little. He flew about talking to everyone he met making them all very happy.

I had to do this for a class, so don't think I'm copying OGF.
Changing ways
They’re always close behind me,
They’re always where I am.
They’re always close beside me,
May this never end.
My sister close beside me,
My brother close behind,
They copy every move I make, Wether ‘tis cruel or kind.
Now I’m growing older,
Sticking with my friends.
Still they copy every move,
Now I hope it ends.
When my friends come over,
They copy every move,
But now they imitate my friends,

I walk the same rooms,
drifting through the same world
even though in between
I don't know if I'm me
or if it's just a dream that looks like reality
or if reality's reality at all
who dreamed who, the girl or the king
who went through, my reflection or me
Who were you, what was the worth of your tears
I thought I knew the name,
like an echo from the years
Broken chains and promises crushed like petals underfoot
Things pass by so quick I don't get a second look
Mice in the cellar, mice under the bed

Figuratively speaking, my logic’s flown away
Which is why my head doesn’t stay any longer in one place.
You see so long I had it caged, in a dark corner of my mind
Where I’d take it out now and then to get some exercise,
But on it’s leash it got restless and it kept trying to escape,
So who was I to argue if it didn’t want to stay?
I tried to reason with it at first, but it used its wits against me
(Which wasn’t very hard since without it I was unconvincing).
It told me I was wasting its natural abilities