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Literature Text
I have died…
I have questions.
Have I done it right?
Did I die right?
Did I die protecting what I love?
Did I Die fight for what I believe?
Did I live right?
Did I love with all I possessed?
Did I fight will all I had?
Did I leave right?
Did I leave behind a legacy?
Did leave behind a story?
Did I dwell right?
Did I laugh till I cried?
Did I cry till I laughed?
Did I being beauty into the world?
Did I banish the horrible?
Was I able to look past both,
Beauty and horror to see the inside?
Was I a teacher or a lesson?
A model or a warning…
Did I fail or succeed?
Did I do it right?
I have questions.
Have I done it right?
Did I die right?
Did I die protecting what I love?
Did I Die fight for what I believe?
Did I live right?
Did I love with all I possessed?
Did I fight will all I had?
Did I leave right?
Did I leave behind a legacy?
Did leave behind a story?
Did I dwell right?
Did I laugh till I cried?
Did I cry till I laughed?
Did I being beauty into the world?
Did I banish the horrible?
Was I able to look past both,
Beauty and horror to see the inside?
Was I a teacher or a lesson?
A model or a warning…
Did I fail or succeed?
Did I do it right?
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Literature
Autism: A Bigger Awareness
Autism – it's just as important as breast cancer, HIV/AIDS, and even diabetes, but some people are not aware of autism and how much of the population actually has it. In fact, 1 in 150 children are diagnosed with autism. I live with victims of this disorder and I'm here to share mine experience and their experience about their life with autism and how it affects them.
I have a fourteen year old sister and an eight year old brother diagnosed with autism. As their big sister, I am always there to give them support and to help them out the best they can. We found out that my sister, Cailyn, had autism when she was three months old. Even th
Literature
Sign Language - 1
He could remember the day Daddy caught him in Momma's glittered high heels, with his face all painted and his legs hidden by her blouse which made a dress on his tiny frame.
His brother and his sister and his Uncle Mike told him to be brave when Daddy wanted to hit him. They told him not to cry, not to run, not to scream.
So he stood there, all awkward in those heels the length of his forearm, his face itching with blush and lipstick, and he turned his chin up to meet the solid fist that bruised flesh and shattered bone.
He flew right out of those heels, onto the soft carpet colored white. The stains would never come out, from the makeup a
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Got both the idea of this and my other death poem from this book I’m reading. As one of my favorite charters is dying he wonders if he has lived his life right, wondering if he’s a failure. Guess I felt really inspired by that. Though I kept rewriting this one I feel like it’s missing something. Advice is welcome please.
Oh and the other poem I mentioned in at the link below.
[link]
Oh and the other poem I mentioned in at the link below.
[link]
© 2008 - 2024 ryu-ren
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