Melinda

Slap the alarm off and slowly get out of bed
Despite her tired body and aching head
Covers kicked on the floor from nightmares
Heading to school she is feeling so scared
In the mirror her eyes are red and heavy
In her ears his voice is ringing already
She's there. Everyone has already assembled
Into groups-the kind of people they resemble
Looking around at the white chalky walls
Just a part of the scenery in the maze we call halls
It's hard not to feel like it's too late to change
Ever since it happened it's never been the same
If you look in her eyes you can tell that she lies
Says she's going to hang out then she hides out and cries
Her knuckles are bruised from the fight with the wall
But it's better to feel a little hurt than nothing at all
Now she's going her own way making her own tracks
To recover from the past and to regain back
The same smack that made her so strong before
She's walking out the door because - nobody really likes her anymore
Some body needs to speak up and help before it's the end
Our dear Friend Melinda really just needs a friend

Fall

A cool breeze weaves it's way through the tree's
Stirring up change and distant memories
A pale school morning with crystals embossed
The cold Autumn ground is dusted in frost
Change is all around; look and feel what is new
Each beautiful color has it's own vibrant hue
Light golden corn fresh off of the stalk
Crisp leaves carried in the breeze crinkle and talk
Deep orange pumpkins await to be carved
Glowing candle lit faces beneath all the stars

The 7 Fingered Thing

I lie awake, late one cool October night
Close my eyes  as the sheets hold me tight
I think of scary tales and old folklore
Then I hear something tapping on my door
If it were a knock I would surely open
I yelled "Hello" but not words were spoken
The fire cracked and then went down
My heart beat and breathe the only sound
A child would knock or talk behind the door
But no one ever knocked like this before
A scratching, tapping so meanly fine
So evil and ghostly; seemed to freeze time
I pictured it's hands like sharply tipped roots
Nails like a small curved sharp canine tooth
I felt it's presence, a menacing shadow
Claws clicking together in a horrific rattle
Clicking and tapping at my door
For what reason I did not know
With my shotgun and courage I wasn't taking a chance
I opened the door... 
But the source of my terror was just a loose branch
It was a windy night and my imagination swirled
I went back to bed as my thoughts all unfurled
Then on my window I heard something tap
I turned to my raggety old window flap
As I parted the curtain I screamed in great surprise
to see all the fingers and crimson red eyes

I order you to read this

You read the title and then you will scan through to make sure my post isn't too long.
Even if it's not too long you might still just skip through the words.  If that's how you roll I'm really sorry.  A lot of people are spending their ultimate efforts in order to have good post and they get treated like a bad add someone gives you at the store.  You act interested (maybe you leave a comment) but as soon as you can, you throw it away.  Then later you find out that someone took that add (which wasn't really an add) and won the lottery. You missed out.  Don't miss out. 

The Wolf

A full moon rises casting dark shadows in the wood
Unleashing a hellish creature that can't be understood
They buried him with his shame in a nameless grave
Returned, he has risen, miracles would have to save
Deep in the night he howls to the black sky in a lunar spell
Boiling blood bent on vengeance, surely this hound is from hell
Barking at the pale moon, pray you've never heard him before
His cries go unheard but if you aren't careful so will yours

The Brick Man

Wendy was home alone, she felt uneasy and found herself peeling back the blinds to check outside.  The wind howled outside as the bare snarly branches scratched against the windows.  Her husband was supposed to be home and as the night closed in she began to really worry.  Soon she was comforted by the sound of the family truck pulling into the gravel driveway.  As the engine coughed off she made her way to open the front door.  Wendy's husband Frank ran inside to take shelter from the cold.  He was covered in filth from his day at work.  As usually Wendy asked how his day was, but Frank didn't answer.  He just stared at his chalky hands blankly and went downstairs.  The basement was a storage of bricks, cement, and junk.  Wendy went to bed but couldn't sleep, she felt unfamiliar and far off from her hard working, loving husband.  As she listened to the wind she heard the front door open.  As her senses sharpened she heard something being dragged across the floor past the bedroom door.  "Frank!" she yelled.  He snapped, "stay in the room."  Shocked and angry, Wendy couldn't speak.  Then there was a loud knock on the door.  "I'll get it!" Frank muttered behind the door.  Wendy snuck behind to see who it was.  "Frank, you are under arrest.  We know who you are, we know what you do."  Then a terrible cry followed by a sound like stone cracking ended in silence.  Wendy ran into her room to hear the same dragging sound she heard earlier.....

Crazy Train

"Crazy, but that's how it goes
Millions of people living as foes
Maybe it's not too late
To learn how to love
And forget how to hate"

Life and Death: Your Story

At the end of the day it's all about you.  As selfish as that sounds it's true.  I'm always had this idea that one day my life will be a story passed down and around by posterity, team mates, class mates, teachers, friends, you get the idea.  This always defined the way I lived my life until I was overwhelmed by the pressure of pleasing. 

Because, at the end of the day you can't please everyone.  You need to choose who you want to share your life with.

It doesn't matter because you aren't going to be stuck with those people forever most likely.  Most people in High School you will never see again. 

What really matters at the end of the day is how you feel about yourself.  Because you are stuck with yourself forever.  You have to make the choices you need in order to be able to live with yourself and your God. (if you believe in one)

So go ahead and make your own story, but do yourself a favor, and make it good.