Original Poetry and Stories by Me
My poetry and writing isn't too good, I know, but understand, it is something I like to do even if I'm not good at it, so don't criticize it unless you want to help me improve it.
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Nowhere
Oh no, not again, its one of those dreams where you are running as fast as you can, and you can't get anywhere. But you keep trying, but it feels like your feet are stuck in molasses, but you keep trying and can't go anywhere. The person is gaining, and you can't go, you're so tired, so tired, keep going, keep going.....nowhere
~Laura K 11/31/02
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Gold
My stomach is twisted, I feel like I am going to puke. Why am I so nervous? I've done this before. I run through it in my head, think of everything I can, only to forget it the second I get on the blocks. I hear a beep and I lunge forward. I can't work any harder. The cold water overcomes me, for a quick second I shiver. Going the fastest is the only thing in my head. I hear screams, telling me "Go faster, keep going, you're almost there!" Just as quickly as I hear them, they fade away as my head is plunged underwater with the long strokes I take. I come to the wall with a strong finish and one last kick. As I tiredly get out of the water, and stagger to sit down, team mates congratulate me. I am done.
~Laura K 12/4/02
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Swallowed
Often, she is the friend who helps mend a broken heart, patch up a broken relationship, and console a friend when they're sad. She'll do just about anything to make you happy. She's always there whenever you need her, whether it's to complain to her about how pesky your boyfriend is or how annoying that girl is in your third period class. No matter what, you know she's always there for you. It always seems to work when she tells you it will be okay. You leave her presence to talk to your other friends happily. Parting with a quick "Thanks," and say "Oh, I would be lost without you!" She leaves a small smile and says she'd do anything for her friends. She always puts other people first. But when she goes home, she notices her own troubles amounting around her. No one offers her consolation, no one helps her. She goes into school with a smile on her face, ready for the rush of broken hearts and teenage problems to come, secretly concealing her own insurmountable problems. But no one asks, not one single person asks, "So how are you?" They're all concerned with themselves and their so-called problems. So when she goes home, after years of concealing her sadness, she feels defeated, and she lets her problems take over. "No I'm sorry, she's not available to take your problems, she was swallowed by her own."
