YellowDucky83

Bruise on my hip, Bruise on my hip. Would you go away? I don't know where you came from, And I don't know why you stay. You make me look so ugly, And produce me much discomfort, And even though you may be small, You really make me hurt. And even when you fade, I know the horrid truth. Coming up behind you Is another one of you!

A Mother's Love Small and pink, Only a babe, Safe in her mother's arms. Young and wild, A small child, Under her mother's watchful eyes. Smart and cheerful, A youthful teen, Living by her mother's wisdom. Crazy and free, A young adult, Learned from her mother's mistakes. Beautiful and in love, A young bride, Receiving her mother's blessing. Radiant and glowing, A new mother. Receiving her mother's help. Calm and sad, A mother of three, Visits her mother's grave. Old and withered, A loving grandmother, Going to see her mother again. Together forever.

Breathe I close my eyes and breathe. I feel my anger slipping away, My sorrow slowly dying. I breathe and all my troubles Disappear. But I have made up my mind, My thoughts unwavering. I jump, The cold water surrounding me, Filling my nose and mouth, Choking me. But as I sink, I breathe.

Colors of my life Deep blue, dark red. Colors of my life. Royal purple, coral pink. Colors of my life. Sunny yellow, Bright orange. Colors of my life. Forest green, Dirt brown. Colors of my life. Night black, sad grey. My life is a rainbow.

Battle The battle is over, The battle is won. Or is it? That's what we thought, Yet the battle still drones on, Between lovers, Between friends. Boys against girls, Parents against children. So the battle isn't over, In fact, it has just begun.

Run Away Running, running, Can't stop. Breathe ragged, chest heavy. They're after me, chasing me. I can't go back, can't turn around, For I know if I do, I will die. They're after me. I'm dangerous. I kill, people die. I don't care. They're afraid, scared of me. Woman on the outside, But a lonely girl inside. So I kill and run. But I'll never get away.

Love Cycle He loves me, He loves me not, This is how it starts. Boy meets girl Girl falls for boy. Then the flowers come. Roses are red. Violets are blue. Boy leaves the girl Girl becomes heart-broken. He loves me, He loves me not. The cycle starts again.

    First Stroke  The first stroke of the brush is always the most difficult. If you mess up, you ruin the image you initially had. This used to happen to me, but not anymore. I'm a more experienced artist now. I paint all day, and never grow weary. The stacks of my works grow. Too bad no one will ever get to see them. -------------------------------~~~~xxxxxxx~~~~--------------  I walk down the hall towards my next class, which is art. I've always loved art, and since this is my senior year, I'm striving to get an art scholarship. My teacher is extremely certain that I will achieve my goal. I enter the classroom and take a deep breath.

10: Pregnancy. Blustering into the apartment, she dropped her things, a purse and a lanyard, by the door onto a little table and groaned as she heaved herself in. Closing the door, she rested back against it, knowing that it just shouldn't be right to be so tired after only walking from her car to the door, but then again, there were 3 flights of stairs and the elevator wasn't working. It wouldn't have been so bad though if she weren't such a blimp, as it was, but 9 months of pregnancy would do that to anyone, and still working at month 9 wasn't helping either. "You know, you really should take the week off..." Looking up, she smiled to wat