Just a Small Town Boy

A normal summer night. Looking out his second floor window, he sees for miles and miles around, but does not want to see any of it. The rolling planes with there browning wheat and barley, and those green paches of the squash that has yet to be ripened. To some this would be paridice away in a small town where every body knows your name, the cute little picket fences on houses of your friends. The quaint central square and the barbershop where all the men go every Sunday to get there beards trimmed. he walks away form the window, and head to his bed. Pickign up his summer reading book he has oly a week to read and falls a sleep.
"Irve, Irve, Honey get up, get up you are going to be late. You don't want to be late on your first day of school do you?" Irve's mother says begrudgingly
Irve trudges down stairs and eats his Malto-Meal breakfast. He picks up his bag yells good bye and walks down the street. The high school of the town is not really a school in its self, but more of a K-12. Only 5 classrooms He walks into the one in the middle of the building. He then proceeds to the back of the class in his normal seat that he only has 2 more years in. looking around the furmiller classroom, he sees all the normal faces he has come to expect from this town. There was Jennie, The pretty one who never knew any thing the trew version of a farmers daughter. to her left and right were the Billians twins, long, lanky boys that just hit puberty last year and are still unaccustomed to there sises. over on the other side of the classroom was Hayley Putersmith, Irve's ex-girlfriend. she is always surrounded by friends no matter the situation. When she needs to use the bathroom at least 5 other people will ask for the bathroom at the same time just so she can walk down the hall with her passie. The other 20 or so kids in the classroom were scattered in there own little groups. They were every where, except in the desks surrounding Irve. Continuing to look around the room he sees the backboard with the name Ms. Riphe 10th - 12th grade.

Beneath the Oak

The wind blows fiercely, yet I remain. The leaves blow and make that soft wiper that is so often used to describe the wind. Dead leaves try to fall, but are instead swept miles away form there tree. The squirrels that are residents of the tree are bundled up in there little knot in trunk, twenty or so feet up. About 5 feet up on the magnificent oak is a ribbon with a bow. Being color blind I would not know its color, yet I have been told that it is yellow. Sitting here under neath it, I choose this tree because of the memories. I walk one hour through the forest I come here every day. It seems like it is the only constant in my life recently. My only wish is to be able to remember all the good and bad memories I have. I will not follow all my family, I do not want them to die again. Mom, so sweet, so caring. The way she baked those fantastic apple pies, or so I'm told. The way they drew crowds every time she baked them. I never knew her, dad brought me up. Such a kind dad, I remember when he tried to build my bike, such a failure! Every once in a while you had to remember to tighten the bolt on the handle bars otherwise when you turned them, the wheel on the font will not turn. Or that time where we were playing with my toy RC helicopter, and he souped it up to go faster. Well that did not end well when it went into Ms. Renolds's roses. It chopped them to bits, both of us were laughing on the floor when she came out. My sister took care of me when I was 10, when dad went back into service. She was so smart, but always on the job. My brother and I were always playing on the computer when she got home around 10. Striate to bed she told us both. We resisted but we did as we were told. When my brother turned 18, he when right in after my parents. So trigger happy in the games never got to touch a real gun, the transport he was on going to his first base hit a bomb. My sister was still strong. I haven't attended school in 3 years. I fell off the grid when my sister was shot at work. Turns out she was a CIA agent, how fun. Her and my record was wiped off the board when she interred the job. Shot in the back of the head at her desk doing paper work because somebody has it against the government. So I sit here, between the trees, beneath the oak, that every one in my family played in. Today is the last time I clime it. I untie the bow on the trunk, and clime. The wind rips the ribbon out of my hand and ketches on a branch. I get it and hop on to the lowest branch. I tye a bow at one end and a loop at the other and jump. Now every one in my family as died twice.

When Do You Die

When are we dead? Is it when our spirit leaves (spell check things I meant to spell elves) our body? Is it when our heart and brain stop working? I really don't think so. I think we stop living at 2 points in our lives. Yeah I know how do you die twice, well in my book you can. The first way to die for me is when you live for nothing. You have no goals in life, when you don't look forward to anything. The second way to die in my books is not your natural death, no, it is for me when you are no longer remembered. When your name and gravestone are wiped clean. When nobody hears your name, nobody remembers your deeds. I know I have tones of dreams that will never ever happen but this is what I hope to achieve. Helping a town or village so I ( I know this sounds really vain) am remembered. I really don't want to be remembered for the bad things I've done. I want to make a positive difference in some way. But some times I believe that I try too much. Being a cook for The S.S. as well as trying to become an all star for 4-H going to try to make things for 4-H so I am remembered.

Attempt at a poem

In the darkness there are creatures
So fierce so hateful,
These animals seem to be off the bleachers
Having cloths very colorful.

Now you sit there, doing nothing
As you hope for things to change.
You sit there behind your window hiding
Leaving you as shortchange

In those beast that look at you,
They find a target so difficult to miss.
They find fun putting your fingers in a thumbscrew
You try to run and hide with the Swiss.

You try to run and hide
But sooner or later they will find
Your secret but then you drink chloride
All this a big plan they designed

These creatures get bigger and bigger
With the fear they instill in others
And you have to come up with an answer
Of how to throw them in the boilers.

After you get rid of them another thought
Comes unseen, the one you destroyed
Is the one you looked for and sought
But they see your feelings and void.

But look now you are here with friends,
There love is confused and tangled,
And then anger and confusion ascends
Then the relationship becomes pickled.

But the truth of the matter is underneath it all,
It comes back to the beasts in hues
That made you jump and fall,
It turns into a huge bruise.