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Ah, here's some random things I wrote during English class, when the teacher had us freewrite. Some of it is unfinished:
"What I Know"
They say you should write about what you know. I know a lot of things. I know that the sky is blue and that the sun is ninety-three million miles away. I know that I can feel the wind, but I cannot see it. I know that in the fall, the color of the leaves change and flutter to tthe ground. I know that winter is cold and that snow is wet. I know that spring brings rain and beautiful flowers. I know the summer is hot and the sand on the beach is as well. I know the ocean is deep, though I have never traveled far from the shore. I know that stars are hot, even if the closest one is far away. I know that I am stuck, when other say that I am free.
"The Stories in Life"
Stories, I love to write them.
Poems, small stories that are just as fun to tell.
Songs, stories put to music in a clever way
Plays, the life story of another
A notebook, a place to keep them all
"The Many Shades of Grey" (unfinished)
Grey is a color most often misunderstood.
It is neither bad or good.
Grey is a color most often unused.
It has no colorful hues.
Grey is a color most often unseen.
It is unlike the common blue or green.
Grey is a color most often seen outdated.
It is for some, too sophisticated.
"Quiet Silence"
Nothing comes to my mind at the moment. It is more blank than this paper. It is filled with silence, with quiet, but not with calm.
I see things. I hear things. I feel things. Yet, at the moment, they go unregistered. I can see the trees bowing to the wind, their leaves rustling in rebellion. The wind creeps across the room and brushes my shoulder, as if someone were standing there. Then silence again, disturbed by turning pages and clacking footsteps.
As the day draws to a close, the sky darkens, like the dimming of lights. The stars are invisible, hidden by the clouds; though they still twinkle with an eerie blue light.
Dark comes when a cloudy day ends. The night is still, as if holding its breath... watching, waiting.
Then daytime arrives again, the sun peeking just over the tops of the mountains. Just like the way a child stands on his tiptoes, barely seeing over a windowsill. Birds chirp, first one, then another. Day breaths as people wake, ready for the light. Dreams end, reality appears all too soon for some.
But soon, very soon, the quiet calm will return.
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