This is a song I wrote about free, strong women. I would like to dedicate this song to my favorite singer/songwriter, Taylor Swift, who always tells a story in her songs. I would also like to share one of my favorite lines from the movie, ‘The Help’ that I think all people should know and that line is, “You is kind, you is strong, you is important.” I hope you enjoy it!

You walkin’ through the gates

And your holdin’ on tight,

The game begins to start

And nothin’ ever feels right.

Then you start feelin’ the beat

And you movin’ your feet

And ya feel like shoutin’

“Yeah, I’m gonna be free!”

So many twists of life,

You better hold on tight

Because the ride’s just startin’ now

And you can barely see.

Yet the wind’s in your hair

And your laughin’ outright,

And the crowd starts shoutin’,

“Yeah! It’s gonna be a wonderful night!”

And you feel so free.

You start spreadin’ your wings

Around the rides of your life,

You start shoutin’ the names

Of the strong women of life.

So, your like, “Hear me now

Because I am free

You ain’t ever ever ever

Gonna contain me.”

Ooh Ooh Ooh Ooh,

I am free.

Sorry I haven’t written anything in the last few days. I’ve recently found a children’s book that I wrote a few weeks ago because my dear sister’s wife is pregnant and I imagined both of them curled up on the couch with the baby in their arms and reading the beautiful yet simplistic words of a child’s world of unicorns and rhymes of playfulness. My sister really likes bugs, so I wrote a story about a ladybug because I absolutely love them. I’ve decided to post my story to bring happiness and smiles to everybody who reads it. I hope you enjoy it!!!

Once, long ago, in a little white house with a little white fence, there lived a little red ladybug who had three black dots called ‘Little One’.

He lived with his beautiful Mama Bug and handsome Papa Bug, who all lived on a beautiful little pink flower that grew in a brown pot inside the house.

The little pink flower was a wonderful place to live. There was lots of delicious pollen to eat and the little white house was very warm and every night, before Little One went to bed, his Mama Bug and Papa Bug would kiss him good night.

But even though the little pink flower was a wonderful place to live, Little One was still sad.

Every winter, the beautiful little pink flower would get so droopy and brown that Mama Bug and Papa Bug would have to fly to the glass greenhouse to bring back some pollen to eat.

And everyday, when Mama Bug and Papa Bug went out to collect food, Little One would sit on the brown leaf, looking out the window and wondering what lay inside the glass greenhouse that seemed so magical.

“When can I go to the greenhouse with you and Papa Bug?” Little One asked Mama Bug one day.

“You just have to be patient,” Mama Bug said. “Soon your wings will come in and then you’ll be able to fly with Papa Bug and me.”

So, everyday Little One checked to see if his wings had come in…

And everyday he found nothing there.

One day, Little One was sitting on the brown, droopy leaf, watching his Mama Bug and Papa Bug fly away to the glass greenhouse when he smiled and thought, “One day, I am going to fly.”

Little One then shut his eyes and began saying, “I’m going to get wings. I’m going to get wings,” when he suddenly felt a tingling in his back.

When Little One looked behind himself, he could not believe what he saw.

There, on his back, were two perfect clear wings. Little One was so excited that he began jumping up and down on the brown leaf, which wasn’t very firm.

The leaf then broke off the stem of the brown, droopy flower, but Little One did not fall.

Before he even knew it, Little One was flapping his wings, soaring through the air and heading to the glass greenhouse to show his Mama Bug and Papa Bug the miracle of his wings.

When Little One got to the glass greenhouse, he gasped because it was so beautiful. There were so many colors! Red tomato’s, blue berries, and the flowers were every color of the rainbow.

When Little One found his Mama Bug and Papa Bug, they were so proud of him that they cheered him on as he flew around the glass greenhouse.

“You see?” Mama Bug said, smiling. “I knew that you would get your wings. All you had to have was a little patience and a little faith.”

So, every winter, Little One went with his Mama Bug and Papa Bug to the beautiful greenhouse to gather food and fly faithfully through the air.

The End.

This is a poem that I wrote a few days ago about a very difficult subject. A few months ago, I thought seriously about committing suicide. It was a very difficult time in my life and even though I’m better now, I still think about that time and how helpless I was…or how helpless I felt. Anyway, I hope you enjoy my poem.

Two black ravens sitting in a tree,

A prickly cactus crying the milk of tears

In a dry and empty desert,

Miles and miles away

From the harmony of loving company.

But yet, with their beady eyes staring ever so compassionately,

Two pained ravens then fly off,

A darkening journey of two knives and two lives,

Of one death and one saved from death

And one family filled with sorrowful tears,

And the other filled with joyful years

Of memorable moments and sapphire oceans

Of loving kisses and fields of flowers

That bring the widest smiles

And the happiness of tears.

Sorry, everybody, for not posting anything in a few days. I’ve just gotten back from a trip to Disneyland and didn’t have very much time to write. But I’ve just written a song that I hope all of you will like. For some reason, I’ve kept on thinking about the song “We Shall Overcome,” and how it was sung at peaceful protests during the civil rights movement, so I thought that maybe this song would be sung at peaceful protests. I hope you enjoy it!

Isn’t it amazing?

The wind beneath your hair

As you stand on top of a mountain,

Shouting the words of relief

And the words of repair,

“Stand for what you believe in.

Stand, it’s all right.

Stand for what you believe in,

You can be that shinin’ light.”

So stand on top of a mountain

And shout at the highest height,

Make the change of the constellations

And fly!

So, stand for what you believe in,

Stand, it’s all right,

Stand for what you believe in,

You can be that shinin’ light.

Stand and look at the starlight,

Stand and feel the beat,

Make the change of the bloomin’ flower

And let them take flight.

Make the world a changin’ place

And just let it take flight.

So, just stand for what you believe in,

Stand, it’s all right,

Stand for what you believe in,

You can be that shinin’ light

Stand.

So sorry that I haven’t posted anything in a while. My whole family just recently left and I couldn’t get any writing done while they were here. I just wrote this poem yesterday. It’s about how some people get so caught up in their lives that they sometimes forget about the fragile things that sometimes need a little extra attention. It’s sometimes like when me and my family go out for dinner and we need to explain to all the waiters how I can’t have gluten and how sometimes these waiters think that it’s just a diet to loose weight, so they don’t take off the bread crumbs or croutons. One time, me and my mommy were at a restaurant in North Carolina that claimed to be gluten-free. I ordered a tea and they brought me a cup of hot water, a small tea bag on the saucer and a small vanilla wafer cookie that was touching the tea bag. I was positive that this cookie was not gluten-free, so I had to ask her for another tea bag that didn’t have a cookie on it. She then gave me a look that could kill and brought me another. I could tell that this woman was pissed, but a lot of people don’t know how sensitive people are to gluten and how that tea bag could have made me sick. Perhaps this poem will change that. I hope you enjoy it.

I see nothing, I feel nothing,

In this new world of shame.

A hero’s journey throughout a land

That I once imagined to be green,

That I once imagined to be serene,

Throughout the grey and darkening night.

But instead I see bare trees,

Barely any leaves that sway through the wind

Or crinkle with the death of a life

That cried each time it rained

And was pained by the careless humans stepping by

In an urgency to live their life

As a passively free, passively fierce

And passively independent human being.

Happy Holidays, everybody! I hope everyone is having a jolly, stress-free Christmas. Yesterday I saw the Nutcracker ballet with my mommy and my cousin. Its a tradition that my mommy and I have and afterwards, I was inspired to write this poem about the lives of ballerinas themselves. I don’t honestly haven’t a clue what force of nature or of God, made me write this poem. Maybe it’s my way of expressing how lonely I get sometimes; the way I just want a few friends my age to hang out with everyday. I don’t know why my poems are so depressing because I think my life is quite happy. Anyway, I hope you enjoy my point of view on the lives of ballerinas.

Sparkling snowflakes dancing upon the stage,

Their bodies a spirit of fire

While their hearts fill readily with desire,

A temptastrous desire to be loved.

Yet there would be hell to pay

As an ocean of pain floods in

And a fire burns upon their legs,

Making it impossible to seek the help from within.

And yet they would wish no torture less,

As they not walk, but glide through life,

As the spirits of love and ambition be well on their way.

Sometimes I feel as if my life is going on without me. All my friends from school seem to be going off to college, preparing for the life that they wish to lead while I’m still stuck at home because of my weak health. There are still so many things that I want from my life; moving to New York, having friends who’ll go out to dinner with me, and having a career that I will love for all eternity and maybe become my whole life. I even want to go to college one day, though it is hard because of my epilepsy, Pans, and celiac disease. People just don’t know what to expect from these things and having to worry about gluten and cross-contamination doesn’t make it any easier since college food is surrounded by flour and fried food. I hope you enjoy my poem about how I feel.

I watch the winds pass through the trees,

As I see my whole life passing before me.

Everything I do, I am told to,

My breath a fury of another’s command,

As I watch the beauty of human nature

Defy the laws of nature and fly.

They fly through the winds and through the sky,

Seeing the beauty of the world

And all the walks of life,

While they leave me standing stranded,

Missing out on life’s great flight.

Awhile ago, I went through a time where I thought life wasn’t worth living anymore. I could no longer hear the bluebirds in the fresh, green leaves that got so light and brown and crisp in the dead of winter where snow and shadows seem to kiss each other in the dark night. I felt like everywhere I looked there were life-sized demons with eyes made of death and sweet sunlight that came from burning embers of hell. This is a poem that describes this feeling and these events that caused me so much pain and anguish so long ago.

I walk into a white house

As plain as the night of day,

And see a grey knife

In my seemingly perfect life.

The bluebirds begin to chirp,

And the sun begins to shine,

But I see no glimpse of happiness

As I stare into the beautiful void

Of the silver-tipped knife.

I close my tear stained eyes

And imagine myself in the afterlife,

Where no dreams haunt me in the night

And I bathe no more in my thoughts of ruby red tears.

I then pour myself a glass of holy wine,

Stained by my helpless desires of life.

So, “Cheers” to my family who loves me so,

“Cheers” to the crisp leaves and trees

That I will somehow make grow.

“Cheers” to me closing my eyes

And “Cheers” to my hopes in the afterlife.

The candle burns at both ends,

But only when I blow one out do I see

The fear of life and death

And the blatant pain of mortality.

Sorry I haven’t written in a few days, but I’ve recently had surgery on my finger and it’s been hard to write. Here’s a poem about my experience. I hope you enjoy it!

A black flower dancing through the night,

As I lie asleep in bed, breathing the aroma of dreaminess.

A million fears go through the air,

As I struggle to close my eyes,

Imagining my afterlife in the deadliest row.

I beg and I plead and I shout and I scream,

As a thousand doctors hold me down,

The devil of angels seemingly choking me.

But I then fall asleep, dreaming happy dreams

And sniffing the black dancing flower,

Laughing gleefully as I dream.