BYC Writer thread

[Chicken Tamer]

I lay by this tree,
My hair soaked from the rain.
I have nobody,
Only my hearts pain.


Ive spent years with him,
My husband you see.
He found a way into my heart,
Opened it with his key.


We would laugh and play
These silly old games.
One thing Ill never forget,
Is that old wooden cane.


(Refrain)


He had that cane,
For more then 10 years.
He had it before he loved me
And before all those tears.


I remember my first gift from him.
It was a old music box.
Now when I play it,
I think of his talks.


(Refrain)


Now I wake up every morning
With no one next to me.
My depression and sorrow
are all my heart has you see.


So now I sit by this tree
Not making a stir.
And now I will be with him,
for eternity, my sir.


(Refrain)

May I join? This is a poem I wrote for school

 

[horsecrazychicklovingkid]

: I love it!

 

[horsecrazychicklovingkid]

: I love it!

 

[horsecrazychicklovingkid]

: I love it!

 

[horsecrazychicklovingkid]

Ugh my phone keeps triple posting. >_<

 

[Chicken Tamer]

Ugh my phone keeps triple posting. >_<

Seems like you love it XD

 

[clucky3255]

I lay by this tree,
My hair soaked from the rain.
I have nobody,
Only my hearts pain.


Ive spent years with him,
My husband you see.
He found a way into my heart,
Opened it with his key.


We would laugh and play
These silly old games.
One thing Ill never forget,
Is that old wooden cane.


(Refrain)


He had that cane,
For more then 10 years.
He had it before he loved me
And before all those tears.


I remember my first gift from him.
It was a old music box.
Now when I play it,
I think of his talks.


(Refrain)


Now I wake up every morning
With no one next to me.
My depression and sorrow
are all my heart has you see.


So now I sit by this tree
Not making a stir.
And now I will be with him,
for eternity, my sir.


(Refrain)

May I join? This is a poem I wrote for school

Yes you can join! That was A-w-e-s-o-m-e!

 

[clucky3255]

The sun filtered through the gray clouds that hid the blue sky, as I passed by the window. I was confident. I noticed my home-school-teacher; my Mom was flipping through my test booklet and marking it up with a de-grading red ink-pen. Dread crept through my twelve year old body. I pushed away the feeling and laid out my work. By the time I had written the date and my name in small neat handwriting Mom held up a hand. I didn’t look up. She slammed the book shut hard, it echoed through out the room. “Don’t go on.” The frustration was audible in her voice. Now I am in for it! My mind shuddered. I nervously put down my pencil and stared at my pages.
“You failed or did not finish 3\4 of your test book and most of your math book was not corrected!” Exasperation could be heard as her voice shook, she was extremely up-set. I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t fight back; I took one look at those papers marked with lots of big red “X”’s, and had no reason too. She was right. In shame I lowered my head into my arms that were laid on top of the table, waiting in anticipation for the anger and frustration to come out. For I knew it was up to her ears and that she couldn’t hold it in much longer. “I HATE WHEN THIS HAPPENS! ARGH!” She abruptly pushed the table away from her and stood up, slamming the book down once again. I was devastated. Burying my head deeper into my folded arms I blocked out the specific words and only heard the sound of yelling and a muffled sob. My sob. A hot salty tear rolled down my cheeks as they turned a deep shade of crimson.
When my mom minimally calmed down, I wiped away the tears that had fallen and retreated to my bedroom leaving mom scribbling away on a sheet of paper. I felt tired and defeated. I just knew I couldn’t do it all over again.


My mind raced and tears welled up in my eyes. Dread was bubbling up inside of me at a dizzying rate. I never realized how bad I was doing in my pre-algebra, and I knew why. I never cared. I never cared to look to see my grade on a test. Or even a regular math page. I assumed.
Trying to set aside my troubles, I picked up a book and began to read.
And when I read, I read. I zoned in on the book as vivid pictures danced before my young eyes. A lone tired voice floated up the stairwell and into the small room I shared with my two sisters, interrupting my dreamy paradise of a different world. My mother hollered, “Everybody come downstairs please!” I could tell by the tone of her voice that she had a pretty rough day so far.
I kicked my feet up onto the yellow bench and stared at mom. My hazel-brown eyes never left her…they watched her every movement, until, of course, the feared lecture came. Mom stood at the end of the school table and looked out at the four girls, ages ranging from 9-19 years old. I buried my head even deeper than before and my brown hair fell freely unto the table. Mom began by apologizing for yelling. “I’m sorry for yelling. I don’t want you to move on in your lessons. Kayla has thirteen lessons to re-do or correct, and Elaina has fifteen. Your brother has wasted half a year of math for you guys. He did not try hard enough when he taught you. He will be punished for it. It is not your fault…well….3\4 of it is Jonathan’s fault – ¼ is your own fault.” I felt the tears start to come. Blinking them back I silently prayed I wouldn’t cry. I knew that if somebody else cried …I would be done for!
After this she looked to my older sister, Theresa. “I am sorry. I really need your help right now. I cannot do Kayla’s level in math. You are the only dependable child I have. I don’t know why. And I am sorry because it is not one bit fair to you.” She choked out the last sentence or two. I dared not look up ‘cause a big oval shaped tear rolled off my cheek and unto the graph paper I doodled on, practically erasing the lines and painting the page a sky blue. Mom retreated to do dishes in the kitchen sink. Her face was tired and disappointment lingered in her big brown eyes.
I will miss Jonathan as a math teacher. He always made the concept easy to do and never made me check my work by doing it out. The wheels in my head turned as I thought about the pros and cons of having Jonathan as a teacher, He had a hard time explaining things to me though. That was the problem. Jonathan did not care. He tried once and gave up. I needed a teacher that cares how I do it and teaches me until I get it right. I gathered my pencil and books and silently stalked up the stairs, my eyes still red from my tears. I sent up a silent prayer to God, Lord! Help me to do my best! Sun streamed through the silky curtains that hung in both of Theresa’s windows, and danced on the colorful bouquet of flowers her boyfriend had gotten her a week or so ago. It gave me hope and strength. Thank you Lord. I whispered.
Theresa explained each concept of each test that I used to be able to do, I tried my best. I did two tests I had skipped and two full pages of corrections. I smiled as I walked down the staircase knowing that it wouldn’t be so hard. Because Mom pushed. Because Theresa helped. Because Jonathan tried and made Mom and Theresa to push and teach. I worked. I tried. I cared.

The End










That was kinda a weird story but what ever!

 

[horsecrazychicklovingkid]

Seems like you love it XD

lol I blame it on the phone.

 

[Chicken Tamer]

lol I blame it on the phone.

Well, thank you phone XD

Yes you can join! That was A-w-e-s-o-m-e!

Aw, thanks!