The light fades and the heart beats one last time,
Was it all for nothing!?!
Just as the darkness starts to fade, following the light into never,
Something sparks and ignites.
“Return and Learn!” Speaks firmly a voice not just outside or inside herself but beyond the comfort of reality.
Suddenly all of her foundations of her soul and body shakes with a settle energy. Warmth blankets her eyes, as the cold stillness of her fingers and toes reflex, as the rush of blood revitalized test every muscle in her body. The stretch of her back up to her neck slowly relaxes, as she reconnects to reality. Every breathe making everything more solid as hot tears prick her eyes.
“I don’t deserve this! I fail every time why am I so special!” She covers her eyes weeping.
That’s when a warm hand touches her shoulder.
Telling and writing stories
Sunday, December 1, 2019
Saturday, March 18, 2017
To be a Hero
A Hero is a teacher, be he or she little or big, they are a warrior and warriors make everything a weapon to protect the innocent, the world, and the future for the great family, which is the some of all life. They have skills tempered through time to become not just a hero but a leader. They seek to save lives and never take them. They are the people willing to go beyond the call of duty. The ones who do what they do to create the next great students who further the leaders of tomorrow. They are such strong leaders they take the abuse and still hold strong through all that rains down on them. They are true and they exists, they are teachers in the schools, police officers, fire men, the old, the young, and the under dogs that try to live simple lives.
Monday, January 30, 2017
Hope
Light of bright,
shine throughout the night,
guard the weak and tend their wounds,
surround them in your embrace,
but do not hinder them of their strengths,
guide them to their own way,
build a bond strong and true,
and hide not the truth,
but be the innocence's pure,
follow them and let your actions speak words,
the noise in the silence,
your wild consuming brightness grows,
like seeds blown on the wind,
in the most oddest of places,
always surviving,
and forever encouraging.
always surviving,
and forever encouraging.
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
Let me know your thoughts?!
Tell me if you like Turning pages stories and writings etc! I want to know if I should keep my two blogs up.
Monday, September 16, 2013
Playground
Playground
Watch
the child run with elegant strides of grace, a beauty not compared to the girls
and boys that surround her. She is so natural and simple in her world alone.
Breaking from the others she strides and sits down on a root under a sturdy
oak. The other children do not notice that she has left but she has and feels
abandon. But that feeling doesn't last for long as she lifts' her face to the
sun streaming through the beautiful canopy of green shaded leaves. The warmth
of the rays dancing on her face in the cool breeze and brings her courage and
feeling at home.
Though
she runs to keep up with the pack of other children she always slips behind,
discarded and forgotten like a old toy that lost any use. She brings nothing to
amaze the others on the playground. She is weak and lost in a open world, with
no guide that she can see, to help her. In the end she waits and watches for
her chance, mingling in and out of crowds. Testing the waters and diving in
hoping, upon hope that she would find a place among the other children. What
she finds does not last for too long. Faces and names are lost to times memory
of what was.
Wrongly
punished she was taken away from the other children, every day throughout a
year of school she stood alone. She has watched on the sidelines the playground
and its children. Longing to have the chance she strove to do right, pushed till
there was no fight left in her hands. Cried every timed she failed. But then
she looked up and out to the sky and waited. When the clouds passed she
lingered in the light, at home in peace again, even for the shortest of seconds
made the difference. Those long moments of loneliness in the dark corners of an
empty class room or standing against a cold, brick wall in silence shook her
foundation of hope. But when the teacher's back was turned she would search for
hope. The teacher could never stop her from moving her hands and feet. And in
so her she drew pictures without ink or pencil. She used her foot in the dirt,
her finger in the air and traced and drew the world around her.
Then
by surprise she found she had a talent. A new boy her age came up to her
without her knowing and praised her drawing in the dirt. The teacher saw the
two and broke them up from further conversation with each other. But as the
teacher turned the boy away he winked back at the girl and turned and ran off.
Hope is an amazing thing to have in dark times. And it shows up in many
wonderful ways. To the girl this looked to her as if her hopes were going to
come true, she was just not so sure how yet.
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