Reflection of a Shooting StarFrosty night air with sky so clearthe Stars look like new.Bright and twinkling they shine,surreal luminescence all that keepsthe soft, white worldfrom drifting into utter Despair.Their glow dances upon the frozen fabric,twisting the threads and weave.Then, as if to stave off the night,a star shoots forth from the heavens,Falling to earth in splendor magnified,and Why? And down in the lake, the suddenstar-burst of four kittens under a lid of ice,heading to the four corners of nowhere.
Nobody's HomeEre the day setsThey rise upUpon the windFlying with new grown wingsTo a place we cannot seeWe, left behind,Have but the old shellsMolted skinsOf flesh and boneNothing inside; nobody home
Depression is My HeritageDepression is My Heritage 9/21/06I've known there was something different about my family for a long time. When I was five, I had to go visit my aunt and uncle in Ohio for two weeks. At the time, I really wasn't sure what was going on, only that mommy needed some time to rest after my baby brother got back from a ten day stay at the hospital and major surgery. For years I never really understood why my mother would do things, or go to see "friends" that I never got to see. Only recently have I learned the true reason that lay behind all of these events, as well as other personalities in my mother's family.My mother's depression started in high school, and got worse in college. She didn't seek help because of the stigmas that surrounded mental illness at the time. Instead she pushed on, ignoring the occasional "spells" she would have. She made it through college, and marriage with only comparatively minor
In RemembranceFive years ago my life, my world, changed.Has it really been that longSince their screams filled the air?Have five long years really passedSince lives were snuffed out,Some in an instant of unbelieving horrorOthers in an agonizing tortureOf waiting and hoping for help not to comeWounds so old seem so freshWhat those people didI don't understand whyI cannot comprehendIts just too hardI ask myself time and againWhat has happened to us?All I know is that we have fallen.We have fallenWill we ever be able to right ourselves?
Chasing the WindThe sun was bright, and the air pleasantly warm that day in the forest. It was the perfect day to start an adventure, or so Nico said; Toki was less inclined to believe it. The two boys, both no older than six, had been traveling through the woods for the better part of the day. It was only in the last few hours, however, that little Toki had started to doubt his friend. As he watched the bobbing blonde head of hair in front of him, the poor boy couldn't help but feel tired."Why are we doing this again?" Toki whined for the twelfth time in the past three hours.Nico, who had given up counting after five, his limit, only smiled at his dark featured friend, "To become Timan, of course!""Nico, you can't become a Timan. Either you are one, or you're not. Everyone knows that!" Toki said, still using that whining tone.Nico refused to let his friend dampen his spirits. "Fine then, we'll prove we're Tima