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Julie Connell

on 30 April 2010

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Transcript of poetry

Poems To Fly To Fly Birds make flying look so simple.
They are like planes that need no gas.
Imagine soaring above the ground,
with nothing to save you if you fell.
The noises of the world around you sound like a buzz,
but you don't make a sound.
Flying, a scary but thrilling experience. Her Evil eyes searching for souls to break.
Devilish hands taking everything from others.
Horrible mouth speaking gruesome words.
Villanous feet stepping on others' dreams.
Nasty attitude putting others down.
She's just a bad person altogether. High School The end of 8th grade is almost here.
I don't know yet if I'll miss it.
I'm not afraid to go to high school.
But also don't know if I'll like it.

I already go to high school
Every day for math.
But that's a lot different
Then going there every day, all day.

Counting down the days
Until the experience.
Cannot wait, it's gonna be great,
Going to high school. The Baseball Game I'm up to bat next. I know millions of people are watching me, cheering for me, and millions more are booing me. I wouldn't give up this chance for the world, but at the same time I'm so nervous I feel like crawling away. They tell me I'll get used to it, it's my first season, I don't know if they are right. I step up to home plate, sweat dripping from my face. I swing the bat and feel the ball making contact like a brick. It screams over the head of the center fielder, right over the wall. The Hunted As we fly down I hear the first shot.
I see my friend fall and land with a splot.
Going faster another shot rings in my ears.
Another friend goes down, and I feel the tears.

Hope I don't get hit, I pray for my life,
Then I feel it, as sharp as a knife.
I'm a speeding bullet, I head for my death.
I see the darkness coming, I take my final breath. Winter Winter is coming, I can feel it. Wind whistles in the trees. Birds' chirps become less every day. The air starts to cool. Migrations are flying over head. The trees change from green to red, and every day I wake with a layer of frost around me. It's been a warm cold day, a sure sign of winter. BY: Moon Rondeau The children played for hours.
Together, they ran through the flowers.
They played mom and daughters.
They dove into the waters.
And swam way down.
They came across a leaf,
And vanished behind a reef.
Then they saw the moon,
And on it was a loon.
There were copper, silver, and gold bars.
There were green and blue and yellow stars.
There was a hat with a button,
Potatoes and mutton,
And a brass diadem with roses.
The beginnings of a plaque dripping with water was on the ground.
There were no people, and wind was blowing all around.
The evening set in, it was getting late.
The girls hurried home and ran through the gate.
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