Pre-AP English

Mr. Webber, 3rd period

Mumford and sons - White blank page (with lyrics)

Community

I found my purpose this year.

First Quarter

positive/negative



POSITIVE:

I’m dying, I’m dying, I’m dying of thirst.

Somebody, somebody, somebody, relieve this hurt.

I need somebody to save me from myself.

I need you to give me some water.


The water that slips down my throat, dry from my screams.

The water that comes out of my eyes; I’m tearing at the seams.
I need some water to bring me back to life.

I need something to tell me what’s wrong.

I need somebody to make it alright.


Give me an ocean, give me a sea.

You have some water that you’re dying to give to me.

Give me a lake, give me a river.

We’ll make this water last forever.




NEGATIVE:

The water, the water, the water is coming.

Run, run, run.

Run away from the water.

The water will engulf you,

And your parents will cry.

But you’re gone, gone,

In the blink of an eye.

Run, run, run.

Run away from the water.

The water will get you and your brother.

Bye, bye, sister. Bye, bye, mother.

Your dad is gone, so quick, so quick.

The water took him, isn’t that sick?

Run, run, run.

Run away from the water.

Run away, run away,

Away from the water.



Second Quarter

Sandy Hook Elementary Quickwrite

Twenty children. Dead. You never expect these sort of things to happen. Twenty children. They were so young. Six year olds and seven year olds. It’s impossible to believe, yet we have to. These kids never got to grow up. They never experienced life. They never learned how to multiply or use apostrophes correctly. They never learned how to type or drive. They won’t get to fall in love. They won’t get to get married, have children. They won’t get to taste the bittersweet chocolate called high school. We take life for granted. Imagine coming home and being told your little sister died in a school shooting. Imagine losing a family member but multiply the pain times ten because these were children. Am I the only one who is afraid right now? Am I the only one who is scared to come to school? Because this could happen to us. You can’t tell us that there isn’t a chance that someone will shoot up the school because there is, and we know it. And don’t tell me I’m overreacting. The kids could have been us, the school could of been Washington. But that’s not the only thing that matters. These families lost someone close to them. Mothers lost sons, fathers lost daughters, brothers lost sisters, sisters lost brothers. Don’t forget the teachers who died. Husbands lost wives, children lost mothers. Life is short, but for them, it never had time to grow. And everyone is talking about it, we’re getting assignments that we have to do and we have to write about it. NO. Why must we dwell on it, when everyone just wants to forget?


Third Quarter

August, the misunderstood boy

You’re raising him wrong, you’re a failure.

A little boy with autism needs love and affection,

not needles full of Thorozine and mean words.

He’s been in there too long,

he does not know the outside world anymore.

Then you took me away from him,

you carried me out the doors.

I didn’t even get to say goodbye to him.

I had to write him a letter that someone would have to read to him.

I had to tell him that out here there are unlimited stuffed animals,

there are seesaws and Legos,

because you have not shown him that.

He gets outside once a week,

to play football with a friend that will be gone in 10 days.

All he had there was the few patients that understood him.

The one who drew him pictures,

the one who tucked him in as he fell asleep after the medicine,

the one who comforted him as he cried,

and me.

The one who did all of those,

the one who held his hand as he fell asleep,

the one who hugged him everyday,

the one who gave him her cereal everyday because he was hungry and I was not.

I would change places with him in a second, just so he could be home.

But I can’t.

Because of you.

You heartless bastards who can’t understand his condition no matter how hard you try.

You are only hurting him and traumatizing him more.

Because of you,

he has no legos,

he has no stuffed animals,

he has never been on a swing or a seesaw.

He has not felt happiness, only the sharp sting of words and needles.

He has not yet had the chance to be free.


My Comfort Spot

I like hiding under the covers

on my bed

with the door closed

and the lights off.

I like to take deep breaths

and fill my brain with Old Spice and cherry blossom perfume

and I can feel the glass

from my latest breakdown.

Every lyric is silent, every voice is mute

and I am stuck with my own thoughts.

You cannot faze me, I am not here.

I am elsewhere.

There are flowers blooming

and birds chirping

and trees being strong

and spinning and spinning and spinning

and spinning and spinning and I won’t fall

again, I promise

because I am just fine here.

This is bliss and silence and peace

and anger and silence and fear

and every other emotion trapped under the covers.


I like sitting on the covers

in my bed and

gazing out the window at the road.

Where I live is who I am-

the bad part of town.

But go for a walk and you’ll see

the beauty of this street.

It may be scary, it might be dangerous,

but that is only at night.

In the day, it wears a smile

and is full of laughter

and cookies

and cats.

It saves the tears

and screams

and fears for the dark.


I like to hide under the covers on my bed.

Don’t turn on the lights

because you don’t want to

feel the broken glass.

I am not afraid of the dark,

I am afraid of the light.

I flip the switch, not you.

Do not pretend I need the sunshine,

if all I’ve known is the night.




Fourth Quarter

Photography

Mr. Webber's class taught me how to express myself not only through writing, but through other forms of art, such as photography.

Tumblr.

Whenever I'm not in English class, I am expressing myself on my blog:

http://hiddenbehindacrookedsmile.tumblr.com/

Music

I learned how to interpret other forms of art. A piano piece, for example, can tell a story. The key is the key in which it is played in. High notes indicate a happy mood, while low notes display a negative mood
Dark Sad Beat Instrumental-Beat Title: Until The End