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Sunset Poppies

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Sunset Poppies last won the day on February 25

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  1. I'd like to start by saying That it may appear I'm not involved . Born and raised here, a "true" american, in a nice, rich, democratic city where everyone thinks the same things (in terms of politics, at least). People don't have prejudice when they look at me If I curse, am rude, say something stupid, that's not applied to my mother or father or teachers who look like I do. Who look white. But that doesn't mean that I don't see what others like me are doing. It doesn't mean that I don't judge what some of you are doing. Sometimes I get it. I hate it, but I've slipped up. I regret everyday. You say that the problem is other people, that "we are the good ones, that it's just those not right in the head those ones from over the border those ones who look different those ones who love wrong those ones who believe in a different version of god." But what happens when you are suddenly faced with the gripping realization that laws are on people not guns on people not tax bills on people not corporations on people, just like you who want to feed their families by leaving them behind forever who want to have another chance who are dreamers who are hard-working who look and sound and believe different but are still people. Those laws aren't working. We've tried working on people, and it didn't work. We don't need more laws to use on people. To anyone who's not convinced yet think of this. What happens if a child, a son, lets say, doesn't like girls? Doesn't believe in the kind of god you do? Loves someone who doesn't look like everyone you know? isn't "right in the head"? You can't control the human condition. You can't control humans. If your son hates his life making it just peachy won't help. Pushing him might just push him to guns, drugs, rape, hate, and more. And then what will you do when your little boy is on TV shooting up a school full of innocent children. You don't have to listen to me. I'm just words on a screen. But I'm really tired of my friends breaking down after class because for them racism is present. I'm tired of listening to girls get harassed on the street Because they wear less clothes or more than most. They are on your side the people you hate. Many voted for him too not because they wanted to be deported or harassed or worse. But because they wanted to "make america great again". They want jobs and food and better wages just like you. They thought only the "bad" would punished that they were "good people". But the man they voted for punishes everyone. I hate to be that person, but to quote To Kill A Mockingbird, "I think there's just one kind of folks. Folks."(231) _____________________________________________________________________ I don't know if this was PC or not. I hope so. Let me know if it wasn't. I just was kind of fed up with the way things have been going the past year and a quarter.
  2. Something Only I Remember

    I can remember so vividly Things that never happened I was so sure that they happened, That they were happening, That they were going to happen. But the people around me disagreed. Didn’t see from my point of view. Because where I was, I could, No, I can See beyond the little walls of a little school Into the great wonders of the world I can remember fall leaves, And polaroids, Flowers and whispers, Laughter and grace, Curiosity and Intrigue, The start of an adventure that has no villain. I remember fairies playing with my hair While I run through a field of spring flowers. And getting lost in the woods, Only to find a long rabbit hole, That takes me to my true home. I remember pixie lights, And bare feet, Green grass, A beautiful summer dress. And somewhere in the background Someone has found an old record player, And 60’s slow music. Soon dancing is all we need. I remember snowflakes Gentle and euphoric, Making everything ugly In this gray colored world A perfect Unchanging white; Everything glows. Even my flushed Red cheeks. But only I remember Because everyone else says All they saw Was a "little girl Not paying attention to her classes". All they saw was a "foolish kid Staring out the window At nothing in particular" All they saw was a "daydreaming student"; Surely not a student with dreams. please give feedback! I'm a new writer and need to get better.
  3. If no one's around...

    If a girl screams But no one’s around to hear her Did she really make a sound? If a girl falls to the ground In utter desperation But no one’s around to see her Did she really move? If a room is an empty space And no one ever comes in To say hello. And the girl inside Is never given a reason To leave Did the door ever open? Or was it always locked? Rusted shut? If a girl does nothing But suffer (in silence), If she made sure no one knew, Did she ever have purpose? Did she ever have meaning? Did her time, her emotions Really happen? Or was she erased By the many spans of nothingness… If a girl fades Into the Plain Gray Buildings Around her And disappears completely But no one knew she was there in the first place Did she really exist? please give feedback! I'm a new writer and need to get better.
  4. Untitled(anxiety)

    This is so amazing! I love the imagery
  5. H O T W A T E R

    I have a few critiques, if you want to hear them! :)
  6. I think, therefore I am. You think not of me, therefore I am not? I am here, where I think. You think of me elsewhere, where I do not. Do I exist alone with myself? Do I exist out of control with you? Or am I stuck to an in-between existence? To be more (and less) myself I think of seven impossible things before breakfast. Like Alice, A girl who is not me, But not unlike me. Is that who I am? A girl not myself, But not completely different? But yet, Despite warring thoughts, I think of seven impossible things before breakfast. One. I am as pretty as them. Two. I am as smart as them. Three. I am as kind as them. Four. I am as funny as them. Five. I am as courageous as them. Six. I am as interesting as them. Seven. I am as talented as them. I also think of seven other (similar) things (strong, athletic, fast, so on...) After breakfast, Before lunch, After dinner, And every other second of the day. Funny, how everyone says “Everyone feels this way, The other kids are going through The same exact thing!” Funny, how everyone looks away In utter discomfort When you say how you feel. Funny, how people think it’s funny If you say what you’re feeling With a laugh Like it’s joke. When really, simply put, You’d do anything To keep the silence away. Even lie. “Omg, I’m just kidding! Lol, can’t you guys take a joke? Obviously I don’t feel that way!” -Most girls, most days... please give feedback! I'm a new writer and need to get better.
  7. Burning the Midnight Oil

    Yes absolutely! I would really appreciate it!!!
  8. Burning the Midnight Oil

    Late night Starry eyed And though I know there are stars outside, I can’t see them. My midnight oil burns too bright And dims all other lasting light But as the stars and sun fall away with fright My midnight Oil Burns. I close the window to let me sleep, I block out all light taunting, But no matter how often I count sheep, From under the door Unrest comes through the cracks haunting. So though I fight the fire, My midnight Oil Burns. please give feedback! I'm a new writer and need to get better.
  9. Hold on. It will stop. It will get better. It was hard to believe on day one but only got harder on day five day six day thirty-three. What I feel doesn't have a proper definition. One could say that it’s missing your old school, but there’s more to it. There’s that memory of undeterred confidence. This sensation like when you know the material on a test like the back of your hand, where you walk around and say, “I completely know this, I am comfortable, I BELONG.” It also, perhaps permanently, changes your thinking from “this is what happened” to “what if this happened”. Every moment is strategized. With new friends, you must be cheerful, be funny, be attentive. What if they don’t like you? What if you don’t make any friends? What if, what if you run out of jokes, run out of story’s, fade into nothing? Even when you're with old friends, there’s those nagging questions. Oh my god, how are you? Or should I say, how's it going, short stacks ? “Yeah, ha.” That laugh was half hearted. You remember that inside joke, right? “Yeah, well, nice talking to you! I, uh, gotta go.” “Oh absolutely! Text you!” “...” You remember me, we’re still friends, I’m still here, RIGHT? You can hear it in the way we change the topic after we say things, like “my new friend” and “at my new school”. You can hear the false note in the laughter. You can hear it the way we act like nothing’s changed, when only everything has. The way we lie. “I’ll see you next week!” “I’ll text you as soon as I get home!” “Yes, we have to keep in touch!" “It’s funny how everything is so easy, it’s like we’re back at our old school!” Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. That’s the other thing about new-girl-itis. While your crumbling on the inside, the outside has to be a shell, strong, giving off the very same confidence you once felt. You have to fight to keep a nice, neat, tidy corner of you to show the outside world, while all the negativity adds to the piles inside of you. Creates walls too high to see through. Creates pressure on one’s shell. Those shells will break every now and then with enough pressure.
  10. Thoughts- A little desk, at which sits An ageless person, Made out of mirrors To reflect all the volumes. Catching only fragments of whats there In it's many many mirrors. Neglecting some volumes for a while. Neglecting some forever. But day and night, they reflect the volumes And volumes And volumes They write at the little desk, in the Growing library Filled with all the volumes. Creativity- A rainbow of colors moving outward In a spiral, Until its ambitious tendrils Colorfully reach, extend onto the Plain White Walls Of the Dusty Old Museum.
  11. Indecision- A complete and Utter blue, unsure about whether it is the sky, Raining and shining, And feeding the world, Or the sea, Accepting what The world does not Want. Or maybe neither, Maybe just a mirror, A reflection of such wonders. Sadness- A large dark shadow hangs, Solid and unfazed, Above an otherwise happy city. It peeks at you where you stand, And stands above mountain peaks, Always watching, waiting, judging, Ready to pounce. People rebel, But no one can defeat that Which is not really there Except inside of them. So the warriors fight the beast within, By turning guns and swords to themselves. And the people watch as the beast grows tall, Too tall, And blocks the last of the sun. And the happy city turns sad.
  12. Dreams- A distant oasis Hard to see clearly In the desert sun, Where you everything you wish Comes true in the waters of the pool. But no amount of walking, Will take you where you wish, As the oasis walks, The same pace, Many miles ahead. And so it becomes a kind of Hell. The heat, the boredom, The longing. Until you trip, Disrupt your even walking, And realize with a jolt, That none of it was ever really there. Just a mirage of your mind. Hope- A golden halo, Too high for any one to reach. A man, Or maybe many, Bringing their step stools, Their ladders, Their chairs, Their hearts, And climbing to the shining circle above. Until, Alas, They are blinded by What turns out to be the sun. They are ruined by their optimism. They are too vain To see their efforts Were in vain. Passion- A hot burning fire In absolute pitch black, That slowly reveals beings, Writhing in the darkness, Grateful, So grateful, For the fire’s light. But the fire feeds from them, Gathers from them, And rises (slowly) From the canvas, Until it rises into its surroundings, Swallowing the people who Admired it, So very much admired it, Feeding from them, Gathering from them.
  13. Imaginary Paintings (King Sisyphus)

    Determination- A famous rock, Fighting to follow gravity into the depths below. A famous king, Pushing the rock towards the heavens above. His eternal struggle for freedom. The perspiration on his forehead. The ache in his bones. His dream to reach the gods Who laugh at his failure. Giving up- The rock defeating the king. Prophetic. Freedom- The king defeating the gods. Impossible. Control- What only the gods have. Imaginary.