Welcome to Gaia! ::

Most excellent!! This ia going great Jaft!! I shall post some of my essays soon.

Thankies.......Ma! xd heart

Yup, Skit's all in Pete's head. 3nodding

i was inspired to pursue this because i felt my heart drag my to the keyboard to write something meaningful...close to me. i guess a lot of times we take love for granted...love isn't something that should be toyed around with like i witness on Gaia all the time. it shouldn't be abused. Love is caring for someone, love is believing the best. Love comes down from God above - THAT'S what love is. love sings to every heart beat, love is the angel's wings ready to fly. love is a hand for you to hold, love will forever be true...i suppose i'll give this a go...*covers eyes*:

Mommy, Do You Love Me?

The boy toddled into the kitchen where the mom was skimming the magazines.
He tip-toed up to her chair and asked, “Mommy, do you love me?”
Taken aback, the mom replied, “Yes, I do.”
“Then will you come with me?”
She sighed, dropping the magazines into the trash while following her small boy. After a few steps, he stopped.
“Mommy, look what I’ve made for you.”
He pointed to the living room wall, just behind the tattered couch. The mother saw his masterpiece and burst into tears. The boy smiled at the thought he’d made his mother pleased. He had worked on it for the past 2 days, hoping he would cheer his poor, stressed mom.
“Mommy, do you love me?”
Nothing came from the weeping mother. Her tears turned into a different kind of cry, it was of a harsh tone.
“Why? You know we have to sell this house by Monday! You have made matters worse!” The mother screamed.
She slapped the boy and shoved him into his empty room. The boy sobbed on the bare floor, unaware of what he’d done wrong. The mother dragged into the kitchen and slumped into the chair. She held her forehead and swore.
After a long, solemn period, the grieved son walked up to his mother and cried, “Mommy…do you still love me?”
“Why do you keep asking me, boy? If I’ve said it once, is that not enough?” The mom said angrily, “Go back to your room!”
An hour later, she went out to get dinner, leaving the distressed 4-year-old in the gloomy house. The little boy heard the door slam and scurried to the window to watch the junky old car pull out from the driveway. He sat there, wondering what could possibly be done to make things better for his beloved mother. Brightening at an idea, he strolled into the pantry to get some cloth and water. He dipped the rag in the sink to the limit his height could offer. Then, he started soaking each picture that had made his mom cross. The rag became filthy. Everything the rag touched smudged. Even as a little child he knew his mother wouldn’t be happy.
“I know!” The boy said to himself, “I shall run to the store and ask someone for an old, ripped cloth I could use.”
He had never been out by himself, but he knew the way to the store, and he would absolutely do anything for his mother.
So the boy waltzed out of the house and down the street, admiring the big world around him with each step he took. He stared at his feet; how it got faster, and then slower. Each pat of his shoes formed a beat. He grew fond of his new discovery and started running faster and faster then slowed to a stop.
At the same time, his mother was on her way home with the fresh pizza and was determined to go back and hug her little one. She stopped at an intersection and caught a glimpse of a boy who looked exactly like hers. Then she smiled for the first time in the past year. When she drove the opposite direction, she stared at the boy in her rear-end mirror. She found two very wrong things:
One – the little boy was in the middle of the intersection with cars.
Two – that boy belonged to her…

“PETER!” She screamed, slamming the breaks.
The boy looked up from his shoes and grinned at his mother. He started to run towards her car but didn’t look for the Mercedes zooming from the left.

The boy’s mom sat in the hospital, wailing. She cradled the air as she did her boy when he was a baby. The assistants at the desk traded glances and took pity on the mother.
“Hey, honey. Are you alright? You wanna talk?” One of the women stated from across the room. The mom didn’t answer.
She muttered, “My boy…my boy…”
The doctor signaled towards the assistants. They grimaced and one nudged the other.
The lady walked up to the mother and said, “Hun, come with me…I have some bad news.”
“Is he okay?” The mother begged.
“Your boy’s in Heaven now, Dear.”
“Take me to him.”

As soon as the mom saw her boy, she ran back to the room screaming. She pounded the chairs.
“Would you like to try to see him again?” The doctor asked after a while.
The mother nodded. When she got into the room, she reached for her boy’s hand and kissed it.
“Feel free to take whatever you want of him. If you want a lock of his hair, his clothes, or any belongings attached to him, just tell the nurses and it will be provided.”
The mother reached into her son’s pockets and pulled out a quarter and a note that she had given to him in one of his lunches last year. The words on the letter were worn and illegible. The nurses came in and consoled the mother of her loss.

She stood there, staring at the headstone. All the people had gone from the funeral service, including her ex-husband.
“Tara?” A voice called from behind. She swiveled around in her black dress and met a familiar face.
“Mr. Mark…”
“Hi. I haven’t seen you in a while. How come you never shop at the market anymore?” The old, weary man asked.
“Oh, I’ve been busy. And money isn’t easy to come by these days.”
“I see…I’ve stopped by to tell you something.”
“Yes, Mark?”
“I’m here to tell you why your boy was out that one day. You see, business was busy, so I had to skip a portion of my break time. When I was finishing up with the last customer, your youngin’, Peter, peeked up the counter until our eyes locked. He asked, ‘Mister, do you happen to have a small rag that I could use?’ I was in a hurry for what was left of my break. I asked, ‘What for, son?’ He told me that he had made a mistake with you and he wanted to fix it. But when he was cleaning up the mess with his rag at home, it got so full it started smudging the walls. I rushed out the door and yelled, ‘Boy, I haven’t got enough time. Come back in half an hour.’ I feel so bad now…you don’t know how much Peter loved ya, Tara. He would’ve died in order to make you happy.”
“He did, Mark. He did.” The mom began to weep even harder.
“Mark,” she continued, “I was going through the magazines to see if we could afford anything on them. Peter walked up and asked me if I loved him. I said I did. So then he brought me to the living room to show what he had made. I was so cross about what he had done and I hit him. He was only trying to cheer me up and now my Peter is gone! Then he asked me again, ‘Mommy, do you love me?’. I yelled at him to go back to his room. Oh, how I wish I could go back in time!”
“He knew you loved him, Tara.”

The lonely and abandoned women entered into her silent home. She slid the couch away and fell to her knees. She cried in front of the drawing on the wall. There were butterflies and grass. There was a giraffe and an elephant. And then there were the words ‘I love you, mommy with all my heart. Be happy! Love, Peter.’ She had failed to notice the words. She looked at the old, dirty rag and pail of water lying on the ground beside her.
The mother yelled, “I love you, Peter! I love you…”

This is a poem i wrote:

This is our world



The leaves flying,the wind blowing, the tears swaying from mother natures eyes, the dirt piling up like a pile of lies. The things that happen will be cruel the hardships we'll go through. Mother nature won't include us in when these bad things start to begin. So don't stop don't look down push past the hardships and the fools, if you don't you won't make it through.

Good good. I have yet to get around to reading everyone's work lol...

But I'll have one day set aside just for that purpose soon. ^_^

Object?

Depends on the interpretation I suppose...

I was thinking a woman.

You?

Lol.

Look at it as a work of obsession.

There is a man.

He's longing for his loved one.

So much so he murders her so that she'll never leave again.

And he keeps here in his basement.

biggrin