Strange worlds flash before my eyes.
Asleep at the wheel I reside.
Cream and sugarless coffee getting cold.
This is the way to go I’m told.
Dreaming of a better day.
Crying my way through a bitter life.
Dying to the man inside day after day.
My thoughts screaming inside my head.
I think of ways to free my soul.
I fail each time.
Dreaming of a better day.
Strangers come and bang on my door.
Alien to this world have I become.
Coldness of eyes set deep inside stare.
Things blur.

A year ago today, ever American was affected. Many lives were devastated and destroyed. Many Americans now don't take as much for granted. In my opinion what we do and do not take for granted before and since the acts on September 11th 2001, is not as important as the one word everyone seems to look over so casually, and that is Family.

Drifting onward in the haze,
life, the endless twisting maze,
the sun wanes lifting endless days.

Two tendrils bind us often fast,
those simple cares of days gone past,
and future fears no less than last.

A welcome sight, your eyes now hath,
the gift of sight into the path,
her whisper gentle, knowing laugh.

Hasten onward others cry,
for death will take us by-and-by,
lo, now the raindrops fill the sky.

A condescending blister
broke out with the break of day
a blunt whisper-
disregarded down the way
I sing a song of yellow springs where palm leaves brush the floor
I danced the tune of a wish forgotten
forged in time
under multitudes of sugarsweet asphalt
A day like yesterday should be forgotten by today
but a memory cannot be forgotten
only faded away.

age group= 17-18

Tired feet, worn hands,
Have no idea what tomorrow demands,
The One Ring, their burden be,
And it bearers, Hobbits, are to free,
Sam looks Frodo in the eye,
And Frodo replies with a burdened sigh,
One step, two steps, three steps, four,
Maybe he can bear just one more,
Sam wakes up with a groan,
And realizes he's dreamed once more,
Mr. Frodo, now gone,
Across the ocean, and far beyond,
It started with one Ring,
The Hobbit's hope, its fate to bring,
Now retired from Adventures dim,

Eithne stood as the snowflakes fell from the heavens above. Looking up she could see the snow falling, a non-ending vortex of white. Looking across the field she could feel the cold of the moonlit winter. The cold moonlit winter. Behold the moonlit winter. It’s beauty for all to see.
Looking down at the stream, frozen in place, the pearly ice reflecting the winter sky she saw her own face. She looked upon the field once more and continued her journey home.

My one and only hobby is to read, write, study, and research. They're all practically the same thing and I do love saying them all. There are the words I frequently use and will always use them.

I'm a 7th grader going on 8th and I'm thirteen years old. I am a new resident in Valhalla, Westchester. Like most new residents, I am only yet to have friends. In the meantime, while I'm still a loner of this town, I only focus on books and studying. My eyes sag, my body aches from curling up in only one posture, and I'm proud of it. (I've been staying up half the night with this book.)

Hero-the word is so
Inadequate to describe you
To risk your life in the hope
Of saving others-
How can we ever repay you?

It cannot be done, and
All we can say is thank you, and
It's just not enough in light
Of what you have done
But we offer it up, 'Thank you.'

And the lesson you have
Taught us today is simply this:
A hero is merely an
Ordinary person who forgets
Themselves so that others might live.

age= 13-16

It's true. I'm fifteen, and I have a baby. She's a wonderful baby, and I love her more than anything, even though it can be hard sometimes to be a good mother, when there's so much else that I want to be doing.