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Hate swelled up inside me, choking me,strangling me, hiding myself from behind it i could only stand and watch as i bellowed and shout at my friend.   I heard me abuse him,
How do you know you love someone? When do you start loving them?
He says, We will wax this wood,  And Green Grass will Grow, And all will be amazed; They will be saved!
I know nothing, since when i fell in dilemma, within that world of violence, i became nothing among things, as the sleeping hog! I'm singled, living in this shade of sorrows and struggles,
"How do the longness of the true love is?" was my question to my girlfriend, she held my hand and covered my nose, i removed it quickly, i thought she was about to kill me, but she said;
"It's a curse, a friend of the grave" they judged a black, and guessed on someone's soul at its color, but they're the most worst, whom are ready to let millions of innocents die in the bloody lands,
It hurts, when these thoughts come in my mind, with high pressure as blood beats, pumping my brain veins. I'm still in coma, i can't define myself, even if my eyes focus my target,
We were very happy, flying in the quiet night, around the kindness moon, our colors were our pride, the pride that gave us the smile, the smile that gave us breath, the breath that allowed us to jump
"Boston" A song By Augustana Ten years old, But only relatable for one.   "Oh it has begun" The new year, The pressure For the future. I needed A direction.  
She once killed a man named Freddie Doo. For he loved to fondle with her shoe. So she chopped him into pieces, Which she sent to her nieces Did I mention that she is a cow named Moo Moo?
Young girl, 14 years old
A pleasant day, nice and sunny
Thousands of runners are almost there They are coming up to the finish line But a danger lurks in the crowd One that no one knows is there Until it’s too late The danger drops a book bag near the finish line
Running, jogging Trying to win the race Thousands of people moving At a simple steady pace   No one could have guessed Of what was to come It was an annual tradition
RUNNING a sport in which the only person you need to beat is yourself
When the world turns, are we turning with it? Or are you standing there like you did last week in the middle of a crowd while it flowed (hurried) around you? I turned for a second, and my heart
You said goodnight to your parents last night they told to go get a good night rest  You were so excited to run that marathon you had been training for, for months, tomorrow 
Forget the residing pain in my stomach from the amount of running 
He said This is our f****n’ city A city rocked with a blast A city numbed in the aftermath A city littered with shards of deadly metal A city clinging together He said
I hear the sirens outside my door, bodies and blood cover the cold street floors, screams and cries can be heard all the way, this is how we living today, guns ripping through the air,
run. run faster. to stop, is to die. you might not cross that finish line.
15 April 2013, 11:43 PM 150 Boylston Street, Boston Dear America,
My pulse began to race Like a horse out of the gate Then my muscles began to clench Like a wrench on a nail
Back and forth the currents sway/ the way is soon upon us/ The finish so near yet/ all around me has happened thus far/ the tyranny of the lights ever glimmering/ ever blazing/ the people in the trek/ some dying some fading/ For what cause be such
It renders me incapable to respond. and I, being already out of energy then, am forced to stop. It is the driving force, and so spikes adrenaline, and so fills the mouth, that rancid taste taking over, holding fast.
You watch the news, you see the signsYou see the terror reflected in their eyesYou don't know the whole situationBut you know the media is exploiting the informationJust because it's a part of life
If you watched these attacks from space, they would seem so small.Imperfections on a beautiful face, you might not see them at all.
The sky looked down on fields of grey, the blood of towers drifting onto a concrete street A street, nothing more, a street cold and dead, weeped from the loss of thousands.
Children brought to their demiseCrowds mowed downIt's time for us to riseLet your prayers be heard in every town!The end of humanityA series of eventsPlagued by insanity
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Fear is only recognized after the fact. When you are in fear, you feel him, you smell him, he grips you, but you do not know him as fear.
The singing began as they came for the finish The cheers and proud memorandums Ran through their minds. A thousand miles had they run for this, A thousand pairs of rubber soles they wore down for this,
My heart bleeds tears of sorrow for lives lost unexpectedly on a momentous Patriots Day, Bombs burst loudly sending innocent lives to heavens gate...
War is not a thing it is an emotion It was what is told across the oceans The truth - world is so much bigger So much more beautiful and wide. Not understood in the time that abides.
An April day, about 60 degrees, Beautiful weather, sun shining, light breeze. The birds were all singing a wonderful song, A day like today, nothing could go wrong.
Remember my friends! Please, please remember!
Promise me that you will always be outraged on days like today when smoke corrupts the lungs of people already breathless from the urge to live, live, live. Promise me you will never bury your head in your hands
Even the smoke Was thicker than I thought, And I thought and I thought. Innocent shards Take their place, broken heart. Who am I to have thought?
I wonder if he knows, The man who dropped the bomb, That woman has a little girl, and a husband back at home. I wonder if he knows About the job that man just got. A doctor with skilled new hands,
The line to the finish was so very near When a sound went off so I could barely hear I fell down - I felt the pain We have been bombed - I cry as I lay I see the other runners turn around to help me back up
If I stood, toes pointed forward, at the walls of ebony stone and watch the endless gallons dive, deep pits of New York; imagine the steel crashing thunder, smoking tower higher,
I am here with you in Boston-- where the earth plummets to the gravel to the pearly gates. Where the holy land is lost.
Remnants of strong people, jolted out of place. Strong like cement paved over with silence. A steady flow of memory filled with photos,
Running And running You can see the end Running for hours The crowd cheers And shouts encouragement s You keep going Then there's a boom There's so much commotion
Child, he was just a child He was shot in cold blood With no reason, but he was the victim Children, children, children These children were young They probably thought they did something wrong
Weakened by the turmoils of the world I am contained By the television screens that speak of the cruelties And hinders my heart day after day
Victory lied, just in my sights, and my feet found their rhythm with greater ease as they conquered the last of the lap. Then, came the blasts.
So much pain So much violence So much suffering So much senselessness. People killing People hating People running People dieing.
A beauty with wings and beady eyes flying higher than Everest It's ego soaring with every flap as it gains momentum Sharp mustard beak contradicts its soft feathers Gorgeous svelte body helps it ascend
They ran for hope and peace, to make a change. They ran so others could believe in something. They ran for the families cheering their names.
I want to touch every inch of his face. I want to feel the smoothness of his skin, And the prickle of his stubble, and the Cracks and swollen flesh of his lips.
Strangled noises of fear forget to free themselves, Blurred objects in horror sprint by, A haze of red and black. Black as night, as coal, as death. Shocked expression on every transparent figure,
I am broken I don’t understand How can someone Bomb our lands? Why can’t we live? Why can’t we see A peaceful world Where all agree? Why must we hurt And be in pain
Red as dark as cherries, As thick as melted chocolate, flowing in and out of the heart, it pumps to a beat like no other.
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