Posts
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Flow
Writing for me is like a river of words flowing out of me.
Sometimes raging other times calm and slow.
Other times it is as if the otters living in the river have built a dam.
Blocking the flow,
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The Shadow
I woke up just like any other day. Get up, get dressed, go to school. It was all normal up until recess. I was on the swing set the first time I saw him. A shadow of a figure that looked. . . like me?
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Every day
Some days during the last block of school I feel like falling asleep.
Not because I don't care about school. In fact I want to learn,
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Numb
I find it absurd that the President is doing so much bad I no longer have the capacity to feel any more.
I have become
numb
numb to the fact that this man has broken so many laws you can't even count them.
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This is what we've come to?
When I first saw the news that Charlie Kirk had been shot I was scrolling through YouTube so I paid it no heed. Then I heard people in the hallways talking about what had happened.
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A Safe Place
YWP to me is a safe place for young writers to share their opinion where they are not pushed down, instead they are lifted up high.
Loves
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Writer's Pledge
As an author I now pledge my allegiance to a free space, to not judge others for their fascinations.
I wish to allow others to dream and bleed mine out on paper; A dream is no longer a dream with me, it’s a story.
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act of heart
when I was thirteen
and scared of real life
I gave out advice like candy
showering my friends with hope
and watched them grow
like sunflowers
out of a cold, dark earth
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We Shall Become Beacons of Hope
We were once one
With the trees, a
Cell which would come to
Sprout, to birth, to
Hatch us all: the
Life that breathes
The world, and
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The Meaning of Life
So you want to talk about the meaning of life? There are many people telling you what your life should mean. More importantly what your time should be, because what is life except time and consciousness? Some people say your time is money.
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Unlovable
What inherent flaw?
what celestial wrong?
missing ingredient?
failed experiment?
am I?
how am I so unlovable,
that no one comes to hold,
my sorry hand?