From the first week of school, I joined a volleyball club. I wanted to be more active and this was a great way to make new friends and bond with those I already had. The first time, I was picked second to last by the captains. I was disappointed, but was like, "I'll show them my skill and maybe next time, I'll be chosen sooner." The next time we picked, I was chosen second. My skill paid off. I'm not a volleyball star but I love the sport and make up for my inexperience with eagerness and aggression to get the ball. I've been playing now for a few months and have noticed a pattern. There are a top six or seven white guys who are basically all MVPs and are chosen first while weaker members or less experienced players are given reluctant debating stares before being chosen. This is drop-in volleyball. This isn't the official team where you make the cut or not. The number of women who came to volleyball in the first few weeks were small enough, but now, only four-five of us are left.

I have been here for centuries.
Through rain and storm.
My leaves have been battered and bashed by wind.
But all this time, I stood tall.
You ran and hid
But I was here.
Now I am gone.
You chopped me down.
I fell
So, so hard.
Now you gaze at my rings.
Telling your son how old I am.
I'll tell you how old I am!
I am older then your mind can imagine.
I have lived through thunder
And lightning.
I have stood as proud as any tree.
All that surviving
Just to be felled
By metal
In order to count my age.

What did the world used to be?

No one knows that anymore.

Green, they say. Beautiful and green.

They don’t ever seem to care though.

I know what it really was.

Trees.

Beautiful and proud trees as far as the eyes can see.

I should know.

I was one.

But now, as the cold hearted workers

In yellow hard hats,

And as the metal saw

Cuts through my beautiful trunk,

I say these last words.

Try to live without us.

 

 

 

Would People Listen?

They say write about something that makes me angry

They say write about something that makes mad

But if I did,

Would people listen?
Say I tried to make a difference

Tried to make a change

Would people listen?
Say I was debating against a panel.

And had a great argument

Would people listen?
They say write about something that makes me angry

They say right about something that makes me mad

But if I did,

Would people listen?

Would people listen even if I’m a girl?

A woman?

And wanted my full equality?
They say write about something that makes me angry

They say write about something that makes me mad

I did

Will people listen?

 

Who are you to want to kill yourself in order to kill others?
How have you read peace in such a horrible corrupted way?
You are ordered to die.
To die for your faith.
To die for your home.
To die for your honor.
But your faith is ashamed to be related to you.
But your home wants nothing to do with you.
But your honor slinks away, surprised that it thought you deserved it.
And forever
You have created a hate.

Every September
We forget to remember the people who should of lived.
Instead we remember the people who should have died.
Who should have died.
The corrupted people who killed themselves.
And then we point the fingers.
Apperantly,
All people who are Muslim are the terrorists.
They are the ones we need to run from.
Apperantly,
All the people with dark skin are plotting to kill us out.
They are the ones we need to kill.

There's this girl. A girl that will cry when she feels like she's going to cry and a girl that'll smile when she feels like she can smile.

It's annoying to those that dislike her, it's annoying to those that do like her, and it's annoying to those that don't know her. Well, that's what she tells herself. She has no clue whether it's true or not.

It's great for everyone when she smiles, but when she's happy, she'll just find even more reasons to cry. It seems like not a day can go by without something upsetting her. She's too sensitive. Too emotional.

Hiding behind fake smiles is something completely foreign to this girl because she simply cannot do it. She cannot "fake it" until she "makes it". She's confused when she sees so many other people doing it because she doesn't know the feeling. She doesn't know how to do it because she's never done it before. It is absolutely, 100 percent, impossible for her.

I'm sorry I'm sorry to all the people I've ever hurt I'm most sorry to that one person that plagues my mind everyday I loved him, but it wasn't enough to make him stay

Which one do I pick?
All stuck behind cages.
Scraggly fur
Eyes saying "Get me out of here!"
Cats, dogs, fish, parrots
All sickly and dying.
I only have five minutes to save one
The minute hand plodds slowly on.
Never stopping or hesitating.
Then I see the one I want to save.
Stuck behind 3 cat cages
Is a cat in a box.
With one air hole.
I need to save him.
"Excuse me Mister?"
I ask the storekeeper
"I want the one in the box."
"No you don't want Tera. She is very sick."
No wonder she's sick. You would be sick too if I stuffed you in a box.
"I want her."
I pull out a twenty.
"Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you."
He moves aside the cages and picks up the box.
I take it and walk out of the store wishing I could save each and every one of the animals in there.
Those poor poor animals.
In the car, I open the box.
Inside, a tiny brown kitten with a white nose.