I Want To Write a Love PoemI want to write a love poemTo be cheesy and all lovey-doveyThat's what I want, but that's not really meI want to tell you I love your eyesThat they like to mesmerize meThat's what I want, but that's not really meI want to show you all my dreamsThat I have about you and meThat's what I want, but that's not really meI want to tell you how often I think of youAll the ideas I have, what to do, what to seeThat's what I want, but that's not really meI want to tell you how much I miss youWhenever you're not with meThat's what I want, but that's not really meI want to tell you how much I love youHow much you mean to me, everydayThat's what I want, but that's not really meI want to tell you how much I appreciate youGetting me out of my shell, experiencing lifeThat's what I want, but that's not really meI want to show you this poemTo have the courage to read it to youThat's what I want, but that's not really me
Selecting a FishSelecting a FishFirst, I'd have him be the color orange,and swiftly swimming in the vast oceanbut secretly, it's just a small bowlhis fins with speckles of whitemaking him unique. He shouldhave the name of a philosopherbecause he's such a thinkerHe will swim in circles, hismind endless of ideasabout escaping his prison of a bowlon my desk. He will say to himself,"The only way out is to acceptthis fate." And he will.
The Company - A Short Story
The Company - A Short Story I had woken up to a strange sound coming from the kitchen. The shattering sound of cups and plates falling onto the ground rang in my ears. Quickly, I rose up out of the comfort of my bed and tip toed out of my room, aiming for the small closet just down the hall. I knew there was a baseball bat inside. I heard a few more plates fall onto the floor then the sound of something scurrying around. Swinging open the closet door very quietly, I took the baseball bat in my hand and started for the kitchen, raising it over my shoulder. I was ready to swing ready to swing at any given moment. As I inched closer to the kitchen, I craned my neck around the corner, peering in. A gasp escaped my mouth as I realized the intruder was a small red fox climbing around on my counters. It pushed my favorite mug off the counter and it almost seemed to give a sly grin. I furrowed my eyebrows and glared. My attention was taken from the fox as another sound came from