Two Twins
Two twins. Are born. On the same day. Two people. Exactly. The same. In. Every way. One is named Martin. The other Ray. Martin becomes a politician. Ray rages against The Machine.
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Two twins. Are born. On the same day. Two people. Exactly. The same. In. Every way. One is named Martin. The other Ray. Martin becomes a politician. Ray rages against The Machine.
The peasants where revolting as the cleric with the hook ran a ring of shame around our leaders throats.
I dreamed that I was at a crowded place where the people's focus was on a some houses on top of a hill. I asked a nearby Indian girl about what was happening which had grasped the people's attention.
(Apologies for the severe lateness of this one, I found it knocking around at the back of a notebook from last summer while sick in bed today.
Yesterday 22.07.12 was the first year aniversary of the terror in Oslo and on Utøya(utoya), Norway. 77 people died. Eight of those where killed by a bomb, some just passed by the govermental...
Look through the window at yourself and who you were. Look at your fashion, See your friends, Look inside that baby face and sweet, gentle heart. Look back more and see yourself being born.
Screams rippled through the night. As the body plunged into the sea. Correction. As my best friend plunged into the sea.
(I wrote this for an assignment we had last year.. Sorry if it's a tad long. Enjoy!) Breathing deeply for what looked like his last breath, a young man lay in his hospital bed.
This is a poem I wrote in memory of relatives who were killed in a terrorist attack in India.
"Carli, it's going to be okay," Elijah sobbed, as he ran his fingers through her thick blond hair, caressing her neck and shoulders as she lay across his lap, "It's okay.
So I'm listening to the news on the radio today, I heard the story on the Norway massacre last year, when Anders breiveik randomly planted a bomb, shot and killed innocent people, yet they are...
I wrote this perhaps controversial short story this afternoon. Understanding this action is more difficult than I first thought. I don't mean to offend, but to provoke thought.