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This is a poem in memory of my grandma.
Poetry | Updated Aug 11, 2011 | Reads: 2 | Comments: 0 | Likes: 0
This is my first villanelle. It is about my grandmother from the Philippines whom I call "Apuma". She raised me from birth until I was about 5 years old and this poem expresses what I would do if I could go back and how I feel about the situation now.
Jamie Longhouse isn't your average teenage girl. She loves to paint on the sand, watch the sun go down from the top of her roof, and make outrageous quotes for her own t-shirt business. Some may say she's a bit strange, but to her loved ones, she's original and unique. But Jamie can never seem...
this week i'm at my grandma... becareful grandma i'm coming!
Book | Updated May 15, 2011 | Reads: 22 | Comments: 2 | Likes: 1
By Sammie Lee
This started as just part of a short story that I wrote. I have a whole envelope of topic ideas for this young princess who likes to play around at her grandmother's house. Hope you enjoy, and there might be more to come.
A poem about me observing the seasons without my Grandmother.
In short: Through the point of view of an average special american gurl, you'll read the recalls of a girl living in 21st century America. Just like everyone else she wants a happy ending, but right now, she is searching for a happy beginnng or maybe middle, just where ever she is now. Follow...
Don't believe me, I spew lies like a dragon.
Short Story | Updated Feb 6, 2011 | Reads: 0 | Comments: 1 | Likes: 1
A memorial of memories and words.
I like to write silly poems. :P
By Kelsie Gibson
http://alzheimers.org.uk/, please donate. xxx
Short Story | Updated Nov 30, 2010 | Reads: 1 | Comments: 0 | Likes: 0
By Adam Snyder
Me reflecting on my Grandmother's life, when I get the call that she is passing away.
Poetry | Updated Oct 28, 2010 | Reads: 3 | Comments: 0 | Likes: 0
This is about the love of a grandma
Poetry | Updated Oct 24, 2010 | Reads: 77 | Comments: 0 | Likes: 0
This is something i wrote when my granny passed. She was the best grandma ever.
In memory of Linda Gale Yates
Poetry | Updated Sep 24, 2010 | Reads: 2 | Comments: 1 | Likes: 3
"No, girls cannot play!" he insisted, adamant on this decision. "They can't play as well, so she might as well not play at all. Go comb your dolly's hair or something!"
A foot stomp followed the short speech, the black haired boy was scowling something fierce. "All girls are good at is makeup...