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Whisper here, Whisper there, I heard you whisper in his ear, Told him the gossiper's word, With the forbidden glare. The hallway, a lounge, The lockers, full of the smoky words of cold hounds.
Haven't seen your face in a while; I miss your smile.
I lay in bed and shake, my body trembles uncontrollably, I feel my bones break. Her words hit me like a ton of heavy clouds, then all at once, the rain seemed to pour down.
A letter to my mother My mother hates me and I don’t know why We just can’t seem to see eye to eye She disrespects me to the ump degree Now I’m going to tell you what’s in my decree
Little Marco is the smartest boy in his class. Other kids think he's weird all because he doesn't like to start trouble. He's respectful and creative.
Am I a can? They categorize me, say it's what I am. But I am not made of tin, don't hold soup inside me.