School's Clutches

- Grace -

(A poem and a parody)

Here is the truth about Humpty Dumpty. Hidden from all until now.

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall,

Humpty Dumpty wouldn’t have died

If he hadn’t had tests that had his brain fried.

Too much knowledge was stuffed in his brain,

So much that he was in lots of pain,

It only took a hit on his head,

For all of his knowledge to make him dead.

This is a parody of a parody (seriously 😊) of the song What a Friend We Have in Jesus (made by Megan, Hudson and I)

When this school year’s finally over,

No more studying for me.

When I finally have some free time,

Oh, how happy I shall be.

No more studying on the weekends,

No more stressing out for me.

I’ll wave goodbye to all my teachers,

How I’ll miss them, how they’ll grieve.

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Ostrich short story

She holds her elegant neck high above the masses which she saunters through. Like a diva at a show she flaunts her plumes, casts a wary eye about for rivals, and turns up her nose at her drab brown and cream comrades. Behold, an animal of distinction and refinement. Here is the ostrich, queen of the winged kingdom. Around her, antelope bow their heads in shame, cringing at their inferiority. Where she steps the grass seems to wither in embarrassment. Even the sun seems reluctant to disgrace her chestnut and ivory feathers. Stop. Look around. Sour musk lines the brisk breeze. She lowers the foot which was held aloft a moment ago, her previously serene expression now one of incandescent disapproval. The antelope prick up their ears. A glimpse of golden pelt in the grass and an explosion of hooves signifies the beginning of the chase. She runs like a demon, head pointed forward and wings outstretched. Long legs kick up turf, spraying it into the streak of gold fur b...

Can't You See the Shapes

I can see the shapes But my hands can't form them right They're trapped in my mind Why can’t I see the light? Dancing and soaring I forget what's around me Electric body Won’t you do what I do? Come sit in the shade Let the arid world fly by Luscious, dark gray shade Take my hand, come and fly Can’t you see the shapes Our fingers form them right Trapped in our minds Can’t you see the bright light? ~a poem by Gemaine~ ~based on a series of haikus by Hannah~

If You're Like Most People...

If you're like most people, you probably don't hate that phrase as much as I do. This is mainly because I overthink things. It's something I do a lot and you will therefore be seeing a lot of it in my contributions to this blog. Actually, come to think of it, overthinking is something pretty much all of us have in common in the Writing Mafia, so you can just expect it all the time from all of us. You're welcome. Anyway, back to 'If you're like most people...'. This phrase wouldn't bother me if people actually meant it. But they don't. They don't mean 'If you're like most people...', they mean, 'If you're like most people who are like me... ' Because let me tell you something, most people - as in, the majority of the human population of the planet - are living either under the poverty line or hovering dangerously close to it, have minimal education and don't understand this rant or anyone who says that most hate...

The Writing Mafia

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