Gray Seattle Sky
“In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God's grace”

The Gray Seattle sky back drops our lies, The classes we lie in, the classes we die, Here we all sit alone in our seats, Rain falling down to the gray Seattle streets, The busses make stops and pick up the dead, paying a dollar to visit their friends, Rain falling down soaks to the bone, This rain causes pain and drives us insane. We are lost to find our way, like children running away from their homes. Alone we wander, to the tree house to the pool to the beach no hiding from this rain that keeps falling down.
It cuts us to pieces and wears done our metal, Revealing beneath our true stinging nettle The thorns from within rise to the surface tied close behind what flowers left sunken, Our blood drains out pulling down our masks
Our seats destroyed, we all rise up and take to the streets our thorns and flowers getting picked at by the rain.
Through the streets we flow like the rain. The library doors slam at the hinges, ink flowing down the great stone steps. It pools all around mixed with a tear. Bottoms up they all called my name together they lie all the same
The doors slam shut never the same. For years to come the name fades away. Books once full of love lay on the floor cracked and torn. Ten years pass in the eye with a tear, a boy one day ventured inside to see what shelter he could find. His facade ripped to shreds blood all gone human no more.
A black book he found clean as a lam, not a drop of black ink left. He thumbed through the pages, a passage he found in words of red. Amazed to find words after the flood of ink and tears that day the white horse and rider appeared. He horded away the black book close to his heart and stole away to the streets where the rain flowed still the same. To old town he ran where no one dared ventured. A once great city now destroyed by the rain, storms took their tole as they raged on in hell.
He ran to his home a once great spire white paint flaking off from the storm. To the top he climbed not alone, behind him a girl followed in pain all the same. At the top he stopped to read what little he could. Beside him she sat no flowers left only her nettles left getting sliced at by the rain. Together they sat as he read in his scared voice the story of a man’s life that saved people like them who were all alone in pain. As he finished the rain silenced and the storm ceased the sun rose high in the sky the two were no longer left in the rain, the white spire was left bare with nothing but two roses and a book shining in the sun the old town left empty, the roses stayed forever as a sign to those left to find.

the door

“Sometimes we stare so long at a door that is closing that we see too late the one that is open.”
Alexander Graham Bell
Dear student,
Here you stand on a new threshold. The door behind you is closing. It is closing on the last four years of your life known as high school. Everything you have learned and known; every day seems the same, same friends, same class rooms, same schedules, same teachers, and same life. But now you have the privilege of shutting that door and jumping through a new one. Sadly, on the other side of the new door is a world of the unknown. New campus, new friends, new schedules, and new teachers. What meal plan what dorm, the unknowns are endless. But you need to jump through this new door. You cannot dwell in the past. You must live in the present and look forward to the future. I am not saying you cannot look back into the past and smile, but do not dwell in it. You must graduate and move on to the next stage in your life, whatever it may be. Good luck and God speed.
“It's the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine”

the 8th birthday present from hell

It kept me warm as long back as I can remember, it kept me safe from harm. The pictures in my baby book showed them sniffing me all over as soon as I had come home from the hospital. I was foreign to them a warm hairless blue eyed little ball of skin and sound. And them very odd to me Black, Furry, Wet Nosed creatures. But together we bonded as I remember they would clean me and steal my cookies. I in turn would feed them and fall asleep on their sides and drag them all over the neighborhood. This process continued day in and day out, we like the mail man could not be stopped by rain, snow, or sleet. I loved those animals much as my siblings for I had none. Now I am older so are my companions. The day is august 14th 1998. The sun is shining and the water is warm. I swim in to shore from the boat. The adults are all together whispering and looking up at me. I curious to find my furry old companion look around and begin to search but no tale tale signs are in sight. Finally confused and puzzled I voyage to the adult huddle. I ask where my lost companion is. They tell me she had gone away and will never come back again. I only 8 was confused but in a sense I understood. So in my swim suit I fallow suit behind the adults walking two by two. Up the hill, behind that little red cabin, is a piece of dirt, whit a wooden cross made with sticks and string by a child of 8. Is where my childhood friend rests last and with her my childhood adventured travel its last.