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Literature Text
George was a journalist,
He'd write down all the news,
The thing he liked best about his job, is that he rarely had anything to lose
Then George went to Greece,
To report a civil war,
To grab his pencil and write about,
The violence and the gore.
In his snooping, he got a scoop,
Rumors did erupt,
He brought the United States news,
About our politicians: corrupt!
Soon, George went missing,
He was lost an entire week,
What we found out next,
Would make our nation freak.
George was found!
But he was dead,
Not a collateral victim,
No bullets in his head.
He was given an autopsy,
On his corpse: colored grey and green,
The formal report said: “Cause of death unkown”
Whatever could this mean?
He'd write down all the news,
The thing he liked best about his job, is that he rarely had anything to lose
Then George went to Greece,
To report a civil war,
To grab his pencil and write about,
The violence and the gore.
In his snooping, he got a scoop,
Rumors did erupt,
He brought the United States news,
About our politicians: corrupt!
Soon, George went missing,
He was lost an entire week,
What we found out next,
Would make our nation freak.
George was found!
But he was dead,
Not a collateral victim,
No bullets in his head.
He was given an autopsy,
On his corpse: colored grey and green,
The formal report said: “Cause of death unkown”
Whatever could this mean?
Literature
Sombersmile
His name is Bivouac. Sounds like "biv-oh-wack". You could say he's homeless, but he'll deny it. He considers the world his home. He's quite a darling, really, all shy when you first meet him. But once you tell him your name it's likely you'll see him open up dramatically. Well, if your name is unique. He has a thing for names. People with common names are less likely to get him to open up. He decides who he likes by their name.
Now if he does take a liking to you, I wouldn't call it an amazing feat....
Because he tends to kill the people he likes.
Bivouac has a sorrowful history. As a youngster, people didn't treat him all too kindly. He w
Literature
Gone
It's like a punch in my gut
A hole in my throat
Cotton in my head
I can't seem to accept the reality
I see your grave
I sit in your empty chair
Watch as your room became just a memory
The old photos of us smiling
The memories of us laughing
The old songs we used to sing
It both haunts and comforts me
Life has never been easy
But now it'll be so much harder
Time became my enemy
Fooling me into believing I had so much more
Just turn the clock back
Rewind the tapes of those happy memories once more
Come back to me
Tell me it'll all be ok.
But there's a sting in my heart
And it reminds me you're gone
I know this pain will be with me always
How co
Literature
The weed
The Weed
Written 22/8/10, 3:00 AM
Time:30 or so minutes
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The Shell split. A tendril pokes tentatively forth. It feels the wet Earth, absorbing nutrients from the loam. The newborn shivers at the new sensations, as it writhes through the dirt. The pale skinned tentacle bores on, growing stronger as it moves, when suddenly, bright, radiant light! The creature is bathed in rays of warmth, awash in the glory of the natural light. The first leg of the journey complete, the newborn calls back to its brothers, and as it begins to darken in the sun, new shoots spring forth from their old home, following the path of the first to the pro
Suggested Collections
Due for edits, rewrites, and changes, but I am still proud of it. 4 out of 5 teachers loved it, as well as 2 out of 7 middle school students! LO!
I saw George Polk for the first time on a postage stamp (Great American Reporters) and the story about him on the back was so absurd that I just had to write a poem about it. I took a blank book and wrote down a shitty little ditty about him. I made a few edits, and this came out!
I made some really good prose, but it's almost always too depressing.
I saw George Polk for the first time on a postage stamp (Great American Reporters) and the story about him on the back was so absurd that I just had to write a poem about it. I took a blank book and wrote down a shitty little ditty about him. I made a few edits, and this came out!
I made some really good prose, but it's almost always too depressing.
Comments3
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poor george