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Random First Lines:Some of my own written quotes . » Read
About a boy I love but is slowly killing me softly.
About the line between reality and fantasy.
This is about all those times when you think life is perfect. It's that first moment when you realize something new is about to happen and change your lives. When a family member, loved one or a friend looks at everyone and starts off with just a few words and by the end you all watch that first...
By Angel Plant
Dancing in the evening with the one you love. Moving closer and feeling the sesire build.
Ren is 17 and a homosexual, his family cast him a side soon after learning of it. He lives at a boarding school with his boyfriend, James. One day his sister who is more understanding request for him to come home for christmas, so their family can be whole again. Ren agrees but what happens when...
In all of mankind there isn't anything more beautiful, unique, miraculous and perfect than a single crystal of ice dropping from the sky like a tear. I got inspired by a Christmas card featuring Helen Steiner Rice's poem "In the Beauty of a Snowflake" on it, and decided that it was too short so...
The 5th part of the history of Richard Channing
The 4th part of the history of Richard Channing
The 3rd part of the First to Murders of a President
This could otherwise be titled: "WHat happens when your lit teachers set up a field trip for you and all the other adolecents in you class to see a play". Only it was to long.
This is (partially) inspired by Anne Frank's diary, and partially from the sugar rush resulting from chugging two giant...
Poetry | Updated Apr 16, 2010 | Reads: 0 | Comments: 1 | Likes: 1
Melina is a fifteen year old girl who is shut out by her bestfriend. this short story from her point of view shows the many secrets she has kept. for the fact she was raped by her best friends boyfriend. but then she finds out shocking news. the ending that will shock all readers.
Short Story | Updated Dec 31, 2009 | Reads: 22 | Comments: 2 | Likes: 4
An old-style poem reminiscent of the old ballads, about a tragedy in past times
I can barely hold my eyes open,
when in my ear words are softly spoken.
this is another one written is 2003 when I had just begun to wake up-so to speak.
Poetry | Updated May 12, 2007 | Reads: 0 | Comments: 0 | Likes: 1