I Am.. Scholarship Slam

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It's dark from where I stand Slowly sinking in quicksand Watching them all fall down The trees  The ones who always reassured me
I am the winter day. The come home from school and run outside to play. I am the eyes that saw the painDaddy yelling at mommy practically going insane. I am the late night tears
I am who I am,Change if I can. I am me from what I've seen.I am harking working,Independent,Caring,and more.Hoping to have so much more in store.I am me from living in the trees.I am who I am bring trying to be me.I have learned a lot and grown an
I am.. sometimes strong sometimes weak but I'm still me. Whether I like it or not life goes on tick by tick beat by beat I can't make it stop I can't go away without someone
I am.. I am a ginger. I am hard headed and independent I am strong I am thoughtful and caring I am the type of person that will drop anything to help someone else
A Million words can tell a million stories,Of princes with swords and all their glory: But to open a story or book with my name. What could the reader possibly gain?
I've spent a lot of time in the bathroom.
“You are fat.” That’s what they say. “Your body is repulsive.” That’s what they say. “Your body is taking up too much space.”
Neat creases in pants, ties around the neck. Fifty identical stars; Thirteen stripes of blood and purity Three children in a uniform line. Tradition they drill, honor they cry.  
*/ /*-->*/ My life is lived--
I am broken and scarred, Emotionally wounded and hiding it, Since I was young I was told emotions were weakness, I told no one about the darkness slowly consuming me, An oily thick black substance,
Guatemala City: at capacity with trash but full of living treasures What a hard life they live while we take all for granted inferno and ignition stewing under the heaps of trash
I am unique in my own way, I have a pink birthmark on my neck, which often gets confused with a hickey.   I am a fan of Cardinals baseball, they play for my hometown. and they're currently number 1.
Kylee Sutton   I am aspire I'm the act of spreading wings
I am more than my mothers daughter I am more than the baggage left by my father I am more than a camp counselor in the summer I am more than the girl whose dreams were taken from her
I am a good girl. I never cry I never blame   My mom always told me to be a good girl I need to be nice person to everyone and smile every time My dad alwasys told me to be a good gril
I am strong. Although i often wonder for how long. The battles that I face. Are hard to erase. Continuously moving ahead. While those in the streets are ending up dead. I guess it could be worse. I can fail in my career as a nurse.
I am the worm, who was told by all the caterpillars, to "just believe in myself." I am the worm, who was left by all the caterpillars, when they spun their cocoons. I am the worm,
If you take me
To question who I am and what I've been through
I am a painter.  I give life to that blank emotional canvas. I am a creator, Bringing life to my vivid imaginations.
Who am I?   Passionate. Honest. Motivated. Strong. Insecure. Scared. Indecisive. Weak.   I know what I want. I go after it. I will get my wings. I will travel the world.
Day by Day  I build  I build a home an abode  A community  but  something counfounds me  
I am beautiful and intelligent. I wonder why people lie and have a lack of loyalty. I hear laughter in th thick air. I see me being successful and doing right for myself.
A walking CONTRADICTION. Who I am and what i do is found in the very meaning of this word.  How so? I do not like stability, i like change, i seek the new, the different, the unusual; 
I am… Nothing I tell myself that almost everyday And every day I have to stop and tell myself that I am something.
I am Anxious  
Out of the sadness that covers me Dark as the night from time to time I thank to the virus that infected me To the humble self that change by time   In the world full of sorrow
Im devastated
The raindrops on the sidewalk are the tears, of the girl who tries to please everyone. The tears and yawps from within are the fears, of the girl who can barely face the sun.  
It is not in my mouth As I expel warm life into the cold brass And feel it move through the neck to the bell It is not in my fingers As they move over the keys In rapid succession
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