As आप know, I live in New Zealand, a place abundant with clouds, mountains, and भेड़ (I know, right!!!). This means that whenever we go on a school trip we're seeing lakes, या mountains, or, and this is my personal favourite, झाड़ी, बुश ('cause that never gets old). This time it was Mount Holdsworth.
After the trip we were asked to write some कविता that the झाड़ी, बुश had inspired. There was all that "If beauty could speak" cr*p, and some "Listen to the whisper of the trees", आप know, all that. This is what it inspired for me...
ATTEMPT #1
The water running over the rocks,
makes me want to pee,
I think of Niagra falls,
The pee trickles down my knee.
ATTEMPT #2
The wind whistles in my hair,
makes me want to itch,
I scratch my hair a little bit,
Whoops, there goes a flying nit.
ATTEMPT #3
The bird chirping in the trees,
Makes my ears real sore,
Dad pulls a gun from his bag,
BOOM! Birdy chirps no more.
After the trip we were asked to write some कविता that the झाड़ी, बुश had inspired. There was all that "If beauty could speak" cr*p, and some "Listen to the whisper of the trees", आप know, all that. This is what it inspired for me...
ATTEMPT #1
The water running over the rocks,
makes me want to pee,
I think of Niagra falls,
The pee trickles down my knee.
ATTEMPT #2
The wind whistles in my hair,
makes me want to itch,
I scratch my hair a little bit,
Whoops, there goes a flying nit.
ATTEMPT #3
The bird chirping in the trees,
Makes my ears real sore,
Dad pulls a gun from his bag,
BOOM! Birdy chirps no more.
pain fills my दिल and brings me to the darkside where I reside for awhile. Until I'm grabbed द्वारा the hand and pulled out द्वारा a so-called friend who just pushes me back in and leaves me to cry in the darkest corner of my heart. I feel like I'm being ripped apart, limb द्वारा limb, every string of my दिल played द्वारा the devil's hand. I feel like I'm not whole, like I'm nothing without him. The one one who killed his best friend, the one who left me alone, I didn't know how to swim. All I want is him to come back and hurt me again. He was my only friend, या so I thought, but when he slapped me across my face, that's emotion आप can't replace and I faced it everyday या so for a साल and a half. Don't try to sympathize because I know with my दिल and soul that आप will leave and let me go with crappy bittersweet goodbyes...
Black roses;
They became the गुलाब that where once red,
They became this Black when my दिल bled,
They Represent my Sorrows,
They represent the path my दिल follows,
Black roses;
the symbol of my heart,
this is what it became, once i fell apart
Black roses,
there's a beauty hidden in this Darkened rose,
as it Stands innocently Maintaining its pose,
A beauty that Attracts those who have gone astray,
it frees them of thier hearts pain,
Black roses;
So beautiful आप are,
Your as raidient as a shining star
Razor blade roses,
free me of your grip,
as your sharp ends are causing my skin to split,
Theres nothing like this pain,
but for this moment, i will let the blood rain,
the beauty pours from its core,
Spreading eagerly across its Petal covered floors,
Pain becomes pleasure,
As this rose is tempting me with its beauty,
free me from your grip,
and let the blades slip
i hpoe आप like them (:
They became the गुलाब that where once red,
They became this Black when my दिल bled,
They Represent my Sorrows,
They represent the path my दिल follows,
Black roses;
the symbol of my heart,
this is what it became, once i fell apart
Black roses,
there's a beauty hidden in this Darkened rose,
as it Stands innocently Maintaining its pose,
A beauty that Attracts those who have gone astray,
it frees them of thier hearts pain,
Black roses;
So beautiful आप are,
Your as raidient as a shining star
Razor blade roses,
free me of your grip,
as your sharp ends are causing my skin to split,
Theres nothing like this pain,
but for this moment, i will let the blood rain,
the beauty pours from its core,
Spreading eagerly across its Petal covered floors,
Pain becomes pleasure,
As this rose is tempting me with its beauty,
free me from your grip,
and let the blades slip
i hpoe आप like them (:
To her, memeories are a painful reminder of the past. She has a box full of them. She has an idea. She takes the box full of memories to a field. She opens it and takes out the worst memory of all. It's a picture of them smiling. She gets angry and rips it in half. She takes a lighter and sets the picture on fire. She sets it on the box. All the memeories she kept hidden, go up in flames. She smiles, then leaves. The flames eventually die down. Her memories are completely lost. And she's happy about it.