Welcome to my xanga! Here I will post poetry and stories.Feel free to comment on them. Well, here goes:

"Darkness Descends"

The night falls in a heavy suffocating cloak, cold and alone are we. The salvation for which you lust flares once, then dies, devoured by the all encompassing dark. All hope must surely persh. Your love is no more. How could you abandon me? Lost souls surround us crying,"Save us from ourselves."

"Where Do I Belong?"

Where do I belong? I wonder. With the preps or the poseurs? With the goths or the emo's? I do not know. All I know is I stand alone.

"Regrets"

Now that I look back to my life a year ago-  I'm ashamed of myself. I have so many regrets. I've broken school rules and although I haven't been caught, I deserve to perish in Hell. How did this happen? I used to be a goody-two-shoes. My good girl personality is old news. They say you shouldn't dwell in the past. That it's history that can not be changed. I wish it could, because I have so many regrets.

"The White House"

Why did Americans call the house where Presidents dwell, The White House? Do they know how incredibly racist it sounds? And why aren't there any women presidents or Black,Asian,Hispanic,Native American,or Middle Eastern Presidents? Aren't we living in the 21st century? Americans can't say that we've conquered racism or sexism, because it still exsits.

"Peace"

I wish that we could have world peace. I wish that the war in Iraq would come to an end. And that the blood being shed everyday would stop. I wish that we could live like God intended us to. Brothers and Sisters, of all ages, races,genders,ethnic groups,orientations,and backgrounds. If only we could live in Harmony.

EDGAR ALLAN POE 1809 - 1849 The Greatest Poet Of His Time. "Alone"    From childhood's hour I have not been As others were; I have not seen As others saw; I could not bring My passions from a common spring. From the same source I have not taken My sorrow; I could not awaken My heart to joy at the same tone; And all I loved, I loved alone. Then- in my childhood, in the dawn Of a most stormy life- was drawn From every depth of good and ill The mystery which binds me still: From the torrent, or the fountain, From the red cliff of the mountain, From the sun that round me rolled In its autumn tint of gold, From the lightning in the sky As it passed me flying by, From the thunder and the storm, And the cloud that took the form (When the rest of Heaven was blue) Of a demon in my view.