“Nothing’s Going to Change”

The morning light

Shines through the window,

Has the impression

Of an eerie glow.

Plaster a smile

Upon my face, try to

Put myself back

In place.

(Rephrase)

Oh… nothing’s

Going to change, nothing’s

Going to change, another

Day all the same.

Oh… nothing’s going to

Change, Nothing’s going to change,

A new birth’s born every day…

Doesn’t matter what

Game I’ll play.

(Rephrase)

Silver liquid drops

Hit the ground.

Try and hear
the faintest sound.

The sun streams in,

Down comes the snow.

A casted shadow

Of a ghostly glow.

(Rephrase)

The morning light

Shines through the window,

Has the impression

Of an eerie glow.

Plaster a smile

Upon my face, try to

Put myself back

In place.

Be careful you don’t

Get left behind,

There will be

Nothing left to find.

(Rephrase)

Doesn’t matter what game,

I’ll play.

The girl I'll always love

Sitting in my lap is all hope as we know it
For this little one shall be the one to be proud of
She’ll get high honors all through her years
In the highest classes all among her peers.

Here is the girl that will be accepted to Harvard
But unlike others will go somewhere else
She is the one who will be athletic and cool
A popular girl
Sweeter than any have seen.

Here is the girl sitting in my lap
A cute little darling
That puts up with my crap
She is the one who I’ll favor forever
She is beloved little sister.

Life Story

If I stand on the rooftops,

I look down at my story.

Anger.

Remorse.

Betrayal.

Joy.

Sorrow.

My journeys,

my adventures.

All that I have been through

is there.

I close my eyes and I try,

I try to remember.

Every detail sinks in,

every detail of my life.

Every second of pain,

every second of pleasure.

I open my eyes,

and my life is before me.

My entire life,

Is in my hands.

Lastly Spoken

Whispering.

Stuttering.

Weakness.

Forcing out the words,

“I’ll never forget you.

I will always remember you,

Forever and ever.”

Regret.

He turns and walks away,

Slowly fading,

A distant memory.

Dreaming.

Remembering.

Wanting.

Trying to remember once again,

That special person,

Who is gone.

Gone forever.

His last words,

Still fresh in your mind,

Never truly absorbed.

“I’ll never forget you.

I will always remember you,

Forever and ever.”

You Scare Me Most

Is there something inside of you?

What’s compelling you to act this way?

Lack of affection?

Poor upbringing?

What gives you the right?

Why transfer your anger to others

And make them feel your pain?

Don’t hurt me in this way.

No one deserves to suffer.

Don’t make this about me.

Keep your feelings yours

And I’ll keep my feelings mine.

If you ask me what scares me,

I just might say you.

To the bullies of the world:

Forget about hate,

And don’t discriminate

Against all of us

that you’re treating like nothing.

We’re all human beings here,

Can you act like one?

CWP- Bela vs. Bri

Hey this is Madeleine
okay, i know this isn't all completely nice. but this is a thing im doing for english. please make comments on whether or not i forgot something, i said something wrong, if this is an A worthy memoir. please remind me 2 of wat everyone looked like on the first day, becuase i can only remember bri's outfit. please, anything with the bri and madeleine drama. bela, read the last paragraph cause i aded more. Maria, Gina, im desperate!!!!!!!!!!!

I walk into this huge room with lots of tables and chairs lined up neatly. About 5 rows high and about fifteen chairs to a table, it looked like the ideal place to scare someone new to this like me. I walked in with this boy Quinn, he seemed quiet compared to everyone else, but I don’t really think either of us knew what to expect. Behind a huge wall reveals about five other people, and old lady who would end up leading us, a strict woman named Justine, and a really nice and relaxed looking man, named Jeff who also would also be in charge. I sit down and wait, watching groups of kids who know each other squeal with excitement, while other kids like me wait.

My brown hair with a lot of golden highlights is pulled back into a ponytail. My flip flops are digging into my toes and my blue eyes are alert, but a little relaxed from being so anxious but even more nervous. I am wearing my favorite blue tee-shirt and blue jean Bermuda shorts. My head is pounding from anticipation as I wait.

Around the corner comes Charlotte and even though we weren’t friends, I was just so happy to see someone I know. She sits next to me and I look around the room. This girl, with blonde hair and a flowery blue colored spaghetti strap shirt, slowly turns towards me and I mouth, “Hi……” She slowly gets up and walks towards me. She sits down next to me and that started our friendship. Slowly as the day progressed, Charlotte, Bri, and I walk towards a table. Close behind us is Kenzie, Caitlin, and Maria and Gina. This was the beginning of a very close group. Caitlin a sophomore, and Maria and Gina who were freshman, sat with the other high schoolers but they talked with us more. Brianne, Charlotte and me started to sit together every day. We sat at the same table at lunch, my table for in that huge room, and the back right row of computers in the computer lab. We were having fun sharing what we knew about writing.

On the third day, we were split into groups. I was with a few girls I didn’t really know but Kenzie was in my group. Brianne, she introduced me to this really nice girl, Bela, who was in her group. The extent of our first conversation was “Hi”…… “Hi” “Hi!” “Hi” “Hhhhhiiiiiii.” As you can see, I didn’t really think that we would be close, I mean those hi’s were kind of awkward. But the next day, she was sitting next to me, her on my right and Bri on my left. Charlotte and Kenzie were always a few seats over. But that also started a huge drama.

Day after day I would wait for Bela if she didn’t have enough candy and needed to buy more, or if she needed to get something. I didn’t mind it and I mean sometimes I was late too. But Brianne, she got so annoyed. There wouldn’t be enough seats in the computer lab for all of us. So instead of splitting up, Bela and I would sit together somewhere else. I had written a poem about Brianne, about her, and the poem said, “Wardrobe is adorable, sometimes stronger than her.” This embodied what she was like. When I first saw her, I thought she was going to be a little rude and very snooty, but she was really just quiet and extremely insecure. I learned this and wrote this seemingly harmless line in her poem. Then someone who was anonymous decided to point out the fact that I thought her clothes made a bolder statement than she did. For like 3 straight days, everyone in the back row on the right of the computer lab, they just kept writing all these things. The thing is, they knew it was true. I apologized though and she forgave me.

That didn’t mean the drama was over though. When Bela and I continued to be extremely close friends, Brianne got even more jealous. She started hitting me, pushing and just saying rude things that eventually made me just not want to be near her. So after a while, Brianne stopped sitting with us, she moved to a different area, she talked with other people and we just started to try and forget her.

On the last few days, Bri started talking to us again. I guess we didn’t want to end it badly, or at least as badly. Bela and I told her it was us who prank called her and things were semi-normal with Bri again.I mean, I still disliked her and so did Bella, but we figured maybe we should be nicer, include her a little, a mean we didn’t need to be best friends, only tolerant of each other. We ended the two week session of the Connecticut Writing Project hugging and laughing and already missing one another. Bela, Noodle and I knew we would keep in touch with hour long phone calls and sleepovers every month, but we were still just sad to end an amazing 2 weeks that felt like four. We will all probably do this again next year, and we probably will all try to stay in the same session, but there isn’t anyone saying, I will be there next year.

If Only I Was Stronger

If only I was stronger,

In however many ways,

Maybe then I wouldn’t be

Such an easy target.

For bullies or strays.

Maybe if I was stronger,

I would find other ways

To find hope and wisdom.

Looking farther than my backyard,

Farther than the mountaintops

I long to grab hold of.

Please let me be stronger,

For I want to be free.

Free of the burdens

I carry with such effort.

Free as the bird which I long to be.

To sing my songs

Without care or fear.

Or fly away when hurt was near.