We’re born into sin
Everyone's wicked
But we think nothing’s wrong
We don’t know we’re
Dying
without growing old

We may feel that we’re
In a meaningless life
But we push it away
We don’t let ourselves know we’re
Empty
without having been filled

The emptiness grows
And we try to avoid it
We fill ourselves up with all the wrong things
And we find ourselves
Bound
without being chained

It was a tall, thin room. There was one skinny window that stretched up to the ceiling. The walls were close - only about 4 feet apart - and they grappled up at the flourescent lights earnestly, like they were trying to get out. The carpet was that blue, confetti-patterened kind. It was stained by who knows what.

They had informed me that the door locked automatically.

I remember that it was a bright night. The full moon cast ghost-like shadows of leaves and palm branches onto the hard-packed sand and coral road. On any normal night of the year, I would not have ventured up there. The trees of the jungle were tall and dense and silent, and seemed to harbor everything in the way of nocturnal creatures that my ten-year-old mind could dream up.

Short summary: Rina's mom was fatally ill. Rina met a stranger and he gave her a bottle. Rina drank it and her body is burning inside. Remember? Good! Let's continue!

I want to totally and completely take over a Sunday School class at our church. I recently looked back on my Church experiences and found that I couldn’t remember anything about being in class expect that I hated it, was bored and was sick of the same thing over and over again.

What?

That’s awful! I should look back on my learning experiences as being fortifying and interesting, fun yet reverent!

I realized that I had gained nothing but resentment for studying the Bible from my Sunday School classes.

Your imagination painted such beautiful images
A sky so blue, and a sun so bright
And when day would fade into night
The never ending stars would stretch so far
To the left and to the right.
I remember you telling me of trees so tall and green
That never lost their leaves
And the sweet fragrance of flowers
Floating on the evening breeze.
Rivers that laughed and sang
With the birds in the air
And the wind in the trees
Altogether playing a charming symphony.
But you were young, and you grew up too fast

It was an hour later than planned when they finally arrived. It turned out that their alarm clock hadn’t gone off like it was supposed to and so they were late.
When they pulled up in their red new looking Ford Explorer Gabby said,” I think that’s them.”
Aunt Marsha opened her door and opened her black umbrella and held it out of the door and hopped out as two teenagers cuddled together in the back seat to make room for us.
“Thank you, God! I’m starving” I smiled up at the heavens only to get rain on my face.

There is something special about the night, about the dark, about the stillness. There is something that draws both the joyful and the depressed to the night. A quiet street beckons the dreamer to some nocturnal romp.

It was, in fact, a quiet night when a solitary figure emerged into a resting street. He began to stroll purposefully down the sidewalk, occasionally materializing from the dark in the mellow glow of the street lamps.

In a small town, there lived a girl named Rina. Rina had long black hair and brown eyes. Rina had two sisters Mizu,and Sukai. Sukai the oldest tried her best to dicipline Rina and Mizu since there mother was fatally ill.