Has the best of times at dog parks beware

He is calm and cheerful as a childlike feature He is enjoyed by any spark of excitement and euphoria

This dog however has had happier moments of hate and despair

 By the sanction of squirrels the scariness will arise                         With sacred nuts and pecan nut filled pies

The war has already been won with beauty and despair

Sitting in the chair of cuteness and calmness

Is the dog that started it all that will never fall 
As the Dog of all dogs

A silent killer. It creeps closer, calmly coming.  

No matter what you do, 

death will always win.

Weary you will become.

The lion over the lamb, the hawk over the mouse.

The world is black and beaten but still is sometimes bright,

But in the end, death will always win.

Your life has shortened,

The light is almost gone, going away forever it seems

Somehow smiles triumph over sadness

But still, death will always win.

 

The wolves now cower in fear,

Hiding from the hunted now hunting the hunters.

Running and jumping and digging a hiding hole,

The hunters are hiding from all.

The hunted is now the hunter,

The world is not how it should be,

Things are topsy turvy, turned and twisted,

The day is of opposites is here,

And its end is very near.

The hunted is now the hunter,

And won’t be for much longer,

Until they go back to their original instincts,

Running and racing and raising the stakes for life,

As the hunters remain scarred forever.

Was super sad with his salsberry steak.

The steak was very soggy.

He was not that sad about it

But Mr beast had to find more beasty things to do

So Mr beast had to find more ways to be beast.

So he tried a whopping willow gold steak

It was as big as a beast, fit for him

And it was amazing. 

But Mr beast had to find more beasty things to do

Now the final fantasy of Mr beast

He was going to have a bouncy boomin castle, in the ocean

With his favored frightening friend, Chanler

And it was amazing

 now mr beast was surely satisfied without more beasty things

Spit out and splattered,

All over my face.

Bang Bang Bang.

Is all that I hear,

In this hell-ridden place,

The gun’s soothing song,

Of Bang Bang Bang.

But soon I’ll be home,

With no guns around,

And away from their hated sound,

Bang Bang Bang,

But for now I have to light my wire,

I have to sing my own song,

"The War Of Gunfire."

A triumph in the trials, 

That really is quite rare;

To see a light lit in the dark,

To have a kind touch, 

Or  feel of hope hustling through the air

Do we ever feel a spark of love,

Or of kindness, or of joy; 

Do we ever have

A pinprick of peace, or of patience

Or feel of hope hustling through the air

Do we have those triumphs in the trials?

Do we see those little lights of love, 

Those people who are gentle?

 Do I ever felt a pinprick of peace

Or feel of hope hustling through the air?

As if Andrew was a master chief.

A homemade apple is for me.

Avery´s pie is apple

Cooking a lot of deliciousness plus apples

A homemade apple is for me.

Anthony ate apples with a touch of applesauce,

And now tauces apples in with it.

A homemade apple is for me.

Ashley asks for apples

As a topping for her salad.

A homemade apple is for me.

As our friends are appling, 

We taste the appleness of apples.

A homemade apple is for me.

My dad went down without words. My mom made dinner momentarily.   My sister soon saw the situation. And alerted my mom. Through tears the story was told. My mother made a mad dash making mini tears. 9-1-1 and neither neighbors had parents home. She screamed and shed tear after tear. As my sisters and I strolled searching for hope. I felt funny that day.

Ambulance and a fire truck announced that it was bad. We walked without a word to my mom’s friend’s house. I couldn’t, couldn’t live cold and dad less,crying I came to the realization, it always was a chance. Soon a story I was told steered me away from sadness. I was wondering “maybe we will see him again.” I felt funny that day.

Finally I found out. “Stroke,”was spoken to me. Fortunately my father was found at his youth. He will not die. Days after the disaster dad was deprived of the hospital, it is Christmas day! I am glad that my dad is now home free! I felt funny that day. 

Mom makes lunch manically,

Matthew marches me out of bed,

Mr. Mitchell manifests his mental illness,

Mondays are madness,

The principal passes the police with a written warning on the way to school,

Recess reeks of the remnants of rented real estate,

Several students can’t spell sentences,

Problems pop up in P.E.,

The lunch looks like liquified lead,

Math makes Mrs. Martin move to Mozambique,

Mondays are madness,

Tim trudges home traumatized,

The town tenses for Tuesday,

Because Mondays are madness!

While I was sitting outside on the hot and humid day, 

a beautiful bird flew by

Soaring flawlessly towards the forest, 

it chirped and whistled.

 The next morning I walked outside to see the forest which had an amazing sunset. 

I saw the bird singing a graceful and gentle song.

 I felt like the bird was saying” stay, stay here and listen”.

 I stayed until breakfast, then lunch and dinner.

I headed inside after my last meal

 the bird watched and cawed at me

 It sat at my window all through the night then breakfast,

 lunch and dinner.

I figured I would go back outside

the bird saw me coming and flew to the forest. 

It sang all day, all night and throughout every meal.

Do actions speak louder than words? 

Are they as important as what is heard?

Actions speak loudly, but only when seen

What does their language really mean?

Actions are a flightless bird

Actions are words deferred

Words are infinitely preferred

Actions are often taken the wrong way

Action’s meanings often go astray

Actions are a flightless bird

Do actions speak louder than words?

Actions meanings are mostly blurred

Actions throw you into an emotional abyss

They more often than not go amiss

Actions are a flightless bird

Mr. Clean, was  as clean as clean can be

He as a dog and shes a she 

Mr. Clean did some commercials 

With a little bit of rehearsal 

And Mr clean watched jimmy neutron and his favorite character was sheen

Mr. Clean was as clean as clean can be

Mr clean was friends with his favorite guy, Mr bean

Mr. Clean was man

And his favorite font was comic sans

Mr clean was very fond of “Billie jeans”  by Michael Jackson

Mr clean was as clean as clean can be

Mr clean had some royal genes 

Mr clean likes to eat

Mr clean likes his beets

Mr clean is as clean as clean can be

Finding home in the most helpful yet hollow spaces ,

As the emotion rises the song reads you and really goes,

They make you feel sad sometimes but you can choose by how strong they are.

Songs are singing birds sitting, 

Ready to fly round while you run,

Letting the long song limp into your heart,

It’s song is smooth and sweet,

Being caring and carried through in a forest and a cat gliding past.

Yet long leading to being lost and

Scared the bird leads to a sacred and secret place,

Where it’s song extends through the sky and sea,

Sounding beautiful before the night is done the bird flies, 

Then it’s gone it drifted away into the starry night looking down on the dove.

The city cops code is everything starts with ca and ends with coca.

 They came with a crane to my house,and a cop, coffee, a cook, a cage, and a letter with all caps. They never come prepared.

    They talked and talked tell they were tired. When they were done they went to the tavern and took up all my time.they were tall, as big as a tank, and teal,woar a tie with a pic of three trees with a trucking licence tied to a tie. But did not come prepared, they never come prepared.

 

Is played around the country in the fall,

It is football, 

Down set HIKE, 

What isn’t there to like,

If you want to see someone get hit, 

Willcox Stadium is where you gotta to sit, 

Pops, Murphy, and Gartenmeyer,

Ignite the player’s fire,

Because Raven Football’s tradition is to win, 

Wanting to be the best is not a sin, 

Ravens will fly high in the sky, 

And I will be at every game, 

And that is no lie, 

Go Ravens go, 

It is the best school I know.

Throughout the lengthy day

As they pass by

Taking their merry time

As they continue their endless day.

On and on they go

And never do they slow

And to that i say

It'll end someday

But it never ever does.

Toodaloo the say

And end this madness i pray

For the world will never decay

Because it is garbage day

And repeated the day is.

It covers everything low and high

Limbs are heavy, drooping down 

Trees are covered with snow crowns.

All beautiful to my eye.

The kids are out

They are playing about.

Sledding and sliding is great fun

Almost as much as being in the sun.

Hot chocolate with marshmallow cream

Cuddle by the fire and dream.

Grab a book and get cozy

Let your face get rosy.

Let winter be a musician theme

Kansas Winters

Once there was a star

Who looked like you are

Because it’s the one who’s you

The smile on your face

Looking like you’ve won a race

Because it’s the one who’s you

The look is as precious as jewelry

The sun gleams on your face

Because it’s the one who’s you

That unique self

 

It flew down low, then flew up high.

He flew around,

And searched the ground.

His prey he tried to spy.

He tried to see, his eyes were dry.

His empty stomach made him sigh.

He wanted a snack.

He could now attack!

Something new caught his eye.

A rabbit in a field of rye

Scurried around as he flew by.

He went down low,

And what did he know,

He caught it by its little thigh.

You can see it in the late afternoon 

The moon sparkle and gleams on the castles 

Apple trees in June dropped the apples 

The moon dips like a spoon 

The leafs flutter and fall like they are immune 

The water glistens and gleams from the moon 

The cloudy cold day fries and cries 

The winds howl and blow in the sky 

The wind carries the golden sand dunes 

The sun falls and rises like  balloons  

The world outside looks like a cartoon 

rain drops with no doubt 

The sun runs out of things to talk about 

At the end of the day the trumpets play there tunes 

 It was late and storming,

 my favorite tree was getting bare. 

I woke up in the morning,

Checking to see the damage.

 My favorite tree was gone, 

I sat in despair.

 The tree was old,

 and that made me care.

It was red and brown in the fall,

 and brightening green in the summer.

The night as I tried to sleep,

 I couldn’t get over the fear.

 I saw the broken down tree,

 remembering it deconstructing.

I finally let it go,

 and planted a new tree just as bold.

It seems that we cannot learn.

For no matter how hard we try

We only laugh and sigh.

Shouldn’t saving Earth be a concern. 

We use oil irresponsibly

Trust me I say it honestly.

If we leave it in the water

How many animals did we slaughter?

“The animals will be OK,” possibly.

Now I hope you make understand

There are people making a stand.

Now the question I ask you

 Which one of you will help, who?

We should stop and save our land.

With every turning page.

You will get it sooner or later,

But it applies to something greater.

We all have The Plague.

It crawls up your skin,

It knows you will never win.

It spreads like wildfire,

It feeds of the darkness and desire. 

We all have The Plague.

And there is nothing you can do,

But spread it too.

And with your last fading breath,

You know it will never rest.

We all have The Plague.

And into their hearts anxiety finds,

A meer machine gun each soldier carries,

To defend them from the enemy Gerrys,

Blood, and disease is the only stench,

When you’re stuck in the trench,

Waiting for the possible raid,

Hoping to get home and get paid,

The soldiers hope that their acts will suffice,

Despite the trench filled with rats and with lice,

To the hope of escaping each soldier will clench,

Once they spend just a day in the trench,

Then comes the push! Oh the glorious push,

The soldiers run through no man’s land! Through the muddy mush,

America wins the fight! And so do the French,

The Armistice will soon be signed! No more of the Trench

But sometimes it will make you queasy.

Writing gives me a headache,

Scraping my eyes out with a rake.

Garbage writing is garbage.

I want to be free ,

I dont want to write poetry.

Why is she making us do this,

But i want to pass this..

Garbage writing is garbage.

I cant take it,

But i have to make it.

Its killing me,

Why am i doing it for free?

Garbage writing is garbage

            The joy that nature can bring 

     Except In May     Snow days are the best 

To stay at home is the best 

You don't even have to get out of bed 

 you don't even have to get dressed  

 you can just hang on tight to your teddy bear, Ted  

 snow days are the best 

On snowy night when your parents phone ding 

 you know who that text is from 

 you won't have to hear the school bells ring 

You won't hear us come