I was writing in my journal and then i looked over what I was writing. I realized that it was a poem. For some of you who dont believe in god or have a different god, please dont find this offensive. I took up this new idea. I think that emotions feed the writer’s soul, emotion gives everyone the passion to write. I encourage this fully!

My heart hurts

All the people I trust

Cannot be trusted

They leak out my secrets

Though I know they can’t help it.

It makes me wonder

Who can I trust?

Who will not tell the world?

There is only one

Who can keep these secrets

The tempting darkness of my life

The secrets that will give you a thirst

A thirst to tell

To betray

Whether you want to

Or not

God is the only person

In whom I can trust

To keep the secrets

That lie in my heart

There is an interesting saying. It is “I trust everyone! It is the devil inside them that I don’t trust” I think that is a perfect phrase to go along with this poem.

This is a poem ( if you can call it that) about being judged. I hate it when people judge you when they don’t know you well enough!

 You Choose to judge me on the clothes I wear

The music on my i-Pod

And my behavior in school

You ignore my sense of humor

My outlook on life

And my love of laughing

You judge me on the things that don’t explain me

Like the way I have my hair

Or the makeup that I wear

You ignore the facts and focus on  opinions

That other people make of me

Is that really fair?

Why can’t you see

The way I really am?

It’s whats on the inside that counts

Please comment, it is just a draft but I want to make sure it is ok! So don’t be afraid to give a little constructive critism (or however you spell it!)

My teacher Mr.R left school recently, I cannot say why. (One:Because I don’t know a lot about it, Two: Because its his personal matter.) Anyway, I know that some people will probably stop using their blogs because he isn’t here anymore. I know that many people have been posting like crazy since Mr.R left. I think it is because emotion really brings out the writer/poet in all of us. We all miss his randomly changing hair, his (dare i say it) funky sweater vest things, his sense of humor and his joyful presence. Mr.R would always try to make class a little more fun by doing writing activities. Most of the time he knew how to make things more interesting and how to give us a proper challenge. He taught us that learning isn’t just memorizing something from a text book and then taking a test. It is about understanding it and being able to use it later on in life. Even if we don’t use it later, education is an gift that so many people in the world can’t have.

To Mr.R: Some people cry, but my eyes are dry and I don’t know why. (i swear i did NOT do that intentionaly!!) Emotions come differently for some and that is the case for me and a few others (of whom i will not point out). We miss you terribly Mr.R! I hope that I see you in the mall just wandering around or hanging out with your family. I know I’m not the only one who wants to see you again! I wish I could wake up and find that it was all a nightmare and I will wake up and come into LA and say, “I had the weirdest