November 23 TMB
First morning of rifle season
alarm blaring, 4:15 a.m.
at the house deep in the Mongalia National Forest
Bacon and eggs frying
coffee in hand
Dad and the guys still asleep
getting up soon after
Forks and knives scraping plates
The Andy Griffith Show blaring in the living room
Setting down to get another moment of rest
While everybody is donning camo and orange vests
Loading the 30-06 deer rifle
Boots waiting at the door
Outside bundled up
five degree wind-chill
Trekking deeper into the mountains
each passing moment
All just before sunrise
All just before sunrise
Each passing moment
Trekking deeper into the mountains
Five degree wind-chill
Outside bundled up
Boots waiting at the door
Loading the 30-06 deer rifle
While everyone dons camo and orange vests
Setting down to get another moment of rest
The Andy Griffith Show blaring in the living room
Forks and knives scraping plates
Getting up soon after
Dad and the guys still asleep
Coffee in hand
Bacon and eggs frying
At the house deep in the Mongalia National Forest
Alarm blaring 4:15 a.m.
First morning of rifle season
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Home..3:50 pm, By Cara Simpkins
HOME 3:50 PM
Afternoon is excitement, long awaited enthusiasm
My mom’s tender voice my dad’s blunt reassurance
The laughter of my two sisters (who care more than any)
A zero percent stress level, Soothing even to the most bitterness.
The sound of the gravel as we pull into the driveway
The opening if that white steel door
To the happiness that would feel my heart in seconds
Loveliness to the scent of moms clean house
I’d waited so intently to encounter.
-Cara Simpkins 9.17.09
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My Spcecial Most Sacred Place. By: Jessica Ball
In mornings
You’ll find me there
Groaning as I’m made to get up.
In evenings
You’ll see me there
Laughing at every little thing.
Sometimes, you’ll see me there in the middle of the day.
Just laying and sleeping
Resting my sick head.
This place is my room
And to me it’s neat.
It has all the little secrets I like to keep.
If the walls could talk
They would tell you a tale
About all the things that go on in my lair.
From sitting and laughing
Jumping and cheering
Crying and yelling
To being startled and screaming.
So many emotions lie trapped in four walls.
A skeleton or two remain locked in the closet.
Ten years of memories stay shut up tight
In case I want to remember the good
The bad
And the extremely ugly.
But no matter what
I think it’s plain to see.
My room is the most special sacred place
To me.
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Tragic Changes by Cara Simpkins
Someone who was there
Now seems so far away.
Though they might be right beside me I feel like their miles away.
I believed in my heart I may have finally found love.
But that live soon turns into hate.
I told them my whole heart.
I knew the only way to describe what we had was happiness.
Then in the midnight hour,
Everything began to change.
I can no longer trust him.
He and I can no longer bear to hear each other’s names.
It breaks my heart to know that someone I once held so close.
He is now slowly slipping away.
Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever find that kind of happiness again.
I have benefitted one thing out of this heart breaking experience that I will hide in my heart forever.
When you think you love someone, give yourself time to know for sure,
If you are going to be left heart broke in the end just like I was.
I will probably never understand how or even why this happened,
But I do know one thing for sure, and that is that the love I felt for him,
Was so strong that I will never love anyone else the way I loved him.
-Cara Simpkins 9/25/2009
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I Am By Cara Simpkins
“I Am
I am stressful and talkative
I wonder what people will say when they see Jesus face to face
I hear voices telling me right from wrong
I see a peaceful place in my mind
I want to see everyone happy and carefree
I am stressful and talkative.
I pretend to fulfill my wildest dreams
I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders
I touch the hearts of everyone who is hurting
I worry whether I make the right decisions
I cry when I fail at something I tried so hard at
I am stressful and talkative
I understand how people let things get to them
I say everyone should know the love of Jesus
I dream to always of a good relationship with my parents as I do now
I try to go that extra mile for everything
I hope to someday find a TRUE friend
I am Me.
-Cara Simpkins 9.17.09
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You. By Jessica Ball
Remember when you were five years old and everything in the world seemed like rainbows and lollipops?
When you could come home and be greeted by a loving Mom and a tired Dad when he got home from work.
You and your mother would play for hours
Just sitting and laughing
And as you grew older and bigger she taught you life lessons, like she’s supposed to.
Then you turned thirteen and your rainbow world fell apart.
You went to sleep like any other night and woke up to Dad telling you she had gone out the door.
You cried for awhile along with your dad and soon tried to find the strength to dry those tears, more for him than for yourself.
As time went on, she tried to talk to you and make you understand and with each passing conversation you finally got to the point where you couldn’t say, “I love you too.”
Now here you are at sixteen, a smiling teen who puts it all in the back of her mind.
You try to be the best daughter you can be to a father who has tried and failed to be both.
And every time you feel like you feel like giving up, you think of the day she left and find the strength to keep going.
Because you know that you don’t want to leave something you love or cherish deeply behind.
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Childhood is
Childhood is TB
Childhood is not getting up early
Childhood is shaking kids pop up
Childhood is driving a battery jeep
Childhood is getting a new G.I. Joe Man
Childhood is getting a Zebco 33 fishing rod
Childhood is going to Sunday school on Sunday mornings
Childhood is papaw teaching me to run the lawnmower
Childhood is going hunting with dad
Childhood is running to mom when scared
Childhood is shooting Dad with a B.B. Gun, and getting a lecture afterwards
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“I am From…”
I am from love and kindness
From helping someone in need
And comfort to those who are troubled
I am from going to church every week
Seeing those who love you
And reaching out to those who need you
I am from song
Joyful, pleasant
Upset, melancholy
From finding a song that suits my every mood
I am from a girly approach
Lavender rose
Gloss, glitter
I am from a normal teenage paradise
-Cara Simpkins
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Childhood By Jessica Ball
Childhood is running and screaming on the playground.
Childhood is staying up late with your older brother playing Zelda.
Childhood is playing Yugioh during break time.
Childhood is hiding behind someone when a snake pops out.
Childhood is hanging out with kids you won’t hang out with later on.
Childhood is being strangers one moment and best friends the next.
Childhood is playing with a pet you don’t know you won’t have later.
Childhood is waking up at six in the morning on Christmas and trying to wake your parents up.
Childhood is eating chocolate even when you know you’ll get in trouble.
And
Childhood is being so tired that you can’t keep your eyes open while Dad carries you off to bed.
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Never Be Ready by Ali Neace
I’m not ready to go.
I’m not ready to leave
The comfort of my home
And my family.
Will you make it without me?
You don’t want,
But I know you can.
I don’t want to either.
We knew it was inevitable that I had to go eventually.
Only time can tell what the future holds,
But until then,
I’m not ready to go.
I’m afraid I won’t be successful,
And I know you’ll always be supportive,
But I’m still afraid of what my come
When I’m on my own.
I know I’ll have to grow up fast,
But I’m still not ready to leave
The comfort of my home
And my family.
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Sorry… by Ashley
Well, I don’t really relate to this piece much, but I can speak of those whom I feel I have hurt in some way or another.
This is slightly pathetic but… I’m sorry for that message; I really shouldn’t have said that… and although you were originally the rude one, I still feel the need to say “I’m sorry.” It’s my human nature. We were just friends, but it still somewhat saddens me to know that we used to talk online on a daily basis and occasionally in person. Now we don’t speak at all.
Hmm oh well, I guess the feeling’s mutual between us now.
This is to the point, no need to beat around the bushes. I’m sorry for never saying goodbye. It hurts deep deep down to know that I’ll never get the chance again. To see pictures of you, it hurts. I’m sorry for taking for taking your presence for granted, assuming you’d always be there. That, obviously, wasn’t the case.
& I’m sorry for that.
I could apologize to many more people, but we don’t want to be here all day. Some people don’t even deserve my sympathy or apologizes… but once again, it comes to with one’s human nature; sometimes I just can’t help but to be nice all the time.
& I don’t suppose that’s a bad thing either. I guess you could say I’m the antagonist on the other side of this poem, finally ‘fessing up and trying to make peace or things mutual among one another.
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Prefect Time of Day by Robbie
Morning is
a tile floor
cold even under feet with socks
footsteps in a deafening silence
a kitchen window
thick fog covers everything
the sun, barley breaking through
Dad swinging on the porch
sharing a bag of potato chips
scattered moos in the distance
a section of grass
gleaming in a ray of sunlight
a warm summer breeze
blowing the porch swing
back and forth
my mom
my sister
sleeping in the house
a breeze that carries
the smell of pine trees
so strong
the birds in the trees
chirping with excitement
a new day is here
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Word of advice to all… by Ashley
Years ago, my friend had this wacky idea of going to a middle school baseball game at Whitman.. She told me it was a varsity game because she knew that was the only one that we’d want to watch.. Well, we soon found out it was JV but decided to stay for the game anyway..
As the game went on, we had became fairly tired and hardly anyone was in the stand.. So I decided to call my mother to come and pick us up.. I had clearly forgotten she had my dad’s truck, and her phone nor his was in there w/ her.. I finally got an answer at the house and told my dad to come and get us..
10 minutes passed, 20 minutes passed – still no Dad.. I was getting kind of worried..
I get a hold of Mom to come and get us.. She comes and gets us, furious as can be.. I allowed Jenna to sit up front with her while I sat in the back.. I soon find out that my dad was looking for me at Logan’s baseball field, not Whitman’s.. He didn’t know where we were; he didn’t have his phone on him either.. He searched all over the place..
We came home, and all we could do was to wait until he came home..
Until that time, we were just out of luck..
He came home – finally..
And everything was actually good among us all.. Well, not at first but it eventually got to that state..
He was glad to see Jenna and I safe & sound..
So word of advice to all kids: always verify with your parents/guardians where you are going.. Whether it be up the street or down the road.. Doesn’t matter – If not, you might very well end up in a situation like so.. And believe me, you do not want that..
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Gone (revised) by Kari Back
You thought you’d always have it;
it would always be there.
You were wrong.
You remember its gifts,
its wonderful surprises,
its twists and turns.
You remember its harsh lessons,
its brutal trials,
its enlightening experiences.
Without it, you feel nothing like you used to.
Your disposition is a day in October;
warm and sunny one minute,
cold and bitter the next.
You want so much to be back on that rollercoaster ride;
to feel the winds of love and laughter surround you once again.
Some lose it quickly,
some hold on to it for dear life.
Those who have it take it for granted,
neglecting to savor every last drop.
Those without it can only dream of its beauty.
You tried to hold on,
but now you’ve realized your childhood is gone.
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