Put This in Your PipeSubmitted on behalf of my friend Ruthefurd Bummage.
Greetings once again faithful readers; I must dispense with normal pleasantries as brevity is of the utmost importance in todays writing. In a typical written piece I would spend the first several paragraphs expounding on basic salutations and witty anecdotal musings. Sadly the issue of which I speak about in this one leaves no room for banal chit-chat as I will be discussing a genuine tragedy. Be warned this editorial is not for the faint of heart and will cause some of you to react in a negative and possibly extreme manner. Now you might think that such a topic would require or demand a comedic introduction and various moments of joviality scattered about to relieve stress. Your basic assumption would be correct under normal circumstances but has the common misquotation goes its the exception that proves the rule there shall be no such tension breaker today. That is how strongly I feel about
Blind ServiceHe had never known what it looked like, the place he had come to call home, but the sounds and smells had grown all too familiar. He knew there was a window in the cell, somewhere high and out of reach; something that let in sound during the day and the icy cold at night. He had no bed and blanket to shield him from the wind, only a pile of earth in the corner where perhaps the builders had run out of stone. When it rained the ceiling let in water that would gathered in his corner forcing him to sleep in the mud.
He thanked God often that the cell he was placed in had been empty; that his captors had seen fit to imprison him alone. Had he been forced to share the cell he knew he would not make it; not with out his eyes and not with his strength taken from him. But loneliness had been the only luxury bestowed upon him.
His days were broken into three parts. After waking up, never voluntarily, he would be dragged by his feet and taken down the stairs and strapped with bronze shackles to
The First Luv of My LifeIn the 3rd grade I had my first serious relationship with a member of the opposite sex. She sat next to me in Mrs. Williams class and she was beautiful. This was back when I was never nervous in front of girls as they were not yet the threat they would eventually become. So I asked her flat out if she wanted to be my girlfriend. Not, would you like to have some milk after school? or Maybe we could catch a game of kickball at recess. I asked Would you like to be my girlfriend? I was all about the commitment right up front, and it did not go unrewarded. She responded with an enthusiastic Sure.
From that day forward we were inseparable except of course when I needed my space. We had lunch together; accept when I wanted to hang out with the guys. We would walk holding hands during recess; accept when I was called off on an emergency game of King of the Ring.&
Rather Than Be HappyAsleep on this the eve of tomorrow,
I dream in the same hopes of yesterday.
But silence just increases my sorrow
For there is just too much for me to say.
Here in that spirit world where life is haze
There is at least the possibility
That in the restful hours between your days
Your heart and mind do fondly think of me
Then the fear that captains my heart will speak
Saying words so bitter they must be true
That if I say what it is that I seek
Im forever saying farewell to you
So rather than embrace what is that seems
I will sleep soundly embracing my dreams.
SuperFor as long as I can remember I have been super strong. When I was three, I was lifting boulders five times my size. By ten, I was moving mountains that touched the sky, and once at the age of twenty I moved the world.
There was no one who could rival my strength and even fewer who would try. Soon I had accomplished all things laid out before me. The world was mine, and mine alone. It was then that I met her; the girl who could fly. There are neither poets that can capture her in prose nor time enough to try. Only the language of the heavens could describe her, and the beings there guard their words jealously.
I would crush coal into diamonds, tell her of the mountains I have moved and of the worlds I had conquered all in hopes of winning her affection. But it was with placated interest that she listened.
What good are mounds of dirt when you can rise above it all? When you can soar like an angel over mountains and through the clouds, around the sun and past the stars? What can I do th