Can you believe Yesterday's gone? The time during which A child was born, A demise was met, A person was scorned, And much more, yet It's over so quickly, In no more than a flash— With only a memory, An almost fictional past— Yet even these Don't seem to last, Though scars And certificates Mark their forgotten Existence.
I wonder why our boys are told that they mustn't let their souls slip out, they remain safe if it is hidden. It would be an act of horror if it were to roll down their cheek for all to see.
I wonder why our boys are told that they should blaze blue or rage red, as they throw, or catch, or tackle. The words beautiful should not be uttered about anything other than a female, especially not yourself.
For the first time, In a long time, I broke down And cried. My emotions ran rampant, And tears rolled Down my cheeks, Like coins you slide Into a slot machine; Where you Hope you’ll win The jackpot, So you can forget All your worries. I expected to feel Shame, For doing something Society Put such a taboo on. I expected to feel Embarrassment, Like I did in Fourth grade,
i woke up a little before five o'clock this morning and there was a dusting of snow on the picnic table. it was still dark, and my mother was thumping around downstairs but the snow-coated graveyard road and roof seemed so still. part of me wanted to be a little kid again and run down the stairs to look out the window but instead, sleep-deprived zombie that i was, i went to bed and forgot about the snow.
Teleporting felt weird because it felt like nothing at all. One second I was on the ground, then suddenly I was on the roof of a tower covered in fog except the small corner my friend and I were standing in. I was still confused about what to call him. Zack? Diamond? Zamond? Diamack? Everyone had too many names. I scrambled away from Diamond and the fog as much as I could without falling off the edge of the tower. It was a long way down. I was afraid of heights.
I watch the world tick around me minutes pass, minutes diminish like clockwork I wake up I go to sleep in a repetitive cycle neverending, continuing for all eternity what is time? Is it a factor? One that is an equation, a solvable puzzle? Is it a reaction? A day to day response? Used in the simplest of gestures? Is it another dimension? One of great meaning Because watching moments slide together
Have you ever wanted to run against the wind, empty the ocean with a teaspoon, shout over the voices that drone of impossibilities, reach out a healing hand across the inconceivable distance to another?
Save a life?
No, you don’t need to run across desserts, plunge into frigid chaos, or speak for hours sweltering in scorn.
What is really needed, is a resource we disregard daily.
Here's the tricky part: We at YWP's Intergalactic HQ have chosen which users have the power to make recommendations by certain actions they take on the site. Whoa. That's mysterious.
You are right. But there is a reason for our mystery. We believe -- and practice has shown this to be true -- that if a user knows that their actions result in a piece being recommended, they will become self-conscious about it. And they will change their behavior.
We want these users -- who've been selected on the basis of the quality of their work -- and, particularly, commenting -- to take their actions based on instinct and gut reaction, not on a more cerebral decision-making process. And we like the fact that each of the selectors are different -- and have their own personal criteria -- and we think that gives this listing an interesting complexity.
So enjoy these pieces. The community has chosen these as exceptional. And, maybe, you've had a part in that.