The Hope That Fell From The Sky

I sighed. The sound echoed, bouncing off the nearby one story houses. The rain poured down, showing no mercy, leaving me looking and feeling like a soaking wet dog. Tendrils of wet hair, hung down in ropes, dripping onto my t-shirt. The rain blurred my vision, until I could barely make out shapes. I heard the pitter-patter of rain drops falling onto the slippery cement. The soundtrack of my heart. I felt the cold and wetness envelope me, until I was numb. My lips separated and I caught raindrops on my tongue. They tasted fresh, like how a new beginning should taste. Fittingly so, since the rain seems to wash away the past, leaving you with unexplored feelings. Once the rain comes to a stop, a rainbow appears, filling your soul with vibrant emotions, as vibrant as the colors themselves. "Rain is nature's symbol of hope." I whispered, realizing what I spoke was the truth. Even Mother Nature knows when hope is warranted. Even I know. This was one of those moments and the rain provided the hope, in a way that resonated, far after the last raindrop was shed by the clouds.

The Words of Light

I sat at the desk, staring at the stark white sheet of paper. It was empty. Blank. Like a void that lead to nothing. Like an endless tunnel in a world of darkness. A world that did not know of the greatness it could hold. A world that did not know to let the light in. A world that kept it out. I did not like it. I wished to change the world that reflected onto the blank piece of paper. I let my pencil lower and I scratched in a word. The word did not change the world I saw. But if I turned my head ever so slightly. And squinted my eyes. And leaned closer to the paper, almost tumbling out of my chair, I could barely make out a pinprick of light. The light held so much possibility. The light; the word was "the". I sat back in my chair and relief washed over me. As long as I had that light, the world would not come back. I bent over the sheet of paper and continued writing, the words flowing of the tip of my pencil. The dark shied away from the eleven words, shining with all their muster, leaving me room to write more. But I didn't. Filling up the page would be like staring directly at the sun. Blinding. I needed the contrast. The light and the darkness. Only when you have the darkness can the light shine through. Only then can you see it. I read aloud the little morsels of light. "The light burns stronger, always spreading, like ripples on a pond." I recited. I tasted the words on my tongue. and suddenly they were shimmering in the air. Rippling out into the room.

If I Were In Charge of The World...

If I were in charge of the world…
The world would be rid of war, poverty, and cruelty.
It would be eliminated of pollution,
And no one would dare crush another’s hopes or happiness.

If I were in charge of the world…
People would take the time to smile at each other, no matter their differences.
People would have no reason to be sorrowful, but still know the preciousness of joy.

If I were in charge of the world…
No dream would be left unfulfilled.
We’d be able to soar above the sky, without wings,
We’d hope for the unimaginable and our hopes would come true.

If I were in charge of the world…
Horrible thoughts wouldn’t exist,
Neither would violence,
Or fingernails scraping a chalkboard.

If I were in charge of the world…
Even someone with flaws could run it, as long as they had the people’s best interest at heart.
Someone, who believed their actions were for the good of the world, even when they made mistakes could still be in charge of the world, as long as they corrected them.

If I were in charge of the world,
The world would not be the way it is now.

 

Façade Poem

I may seem like an oak tree, strong and tall
But I am like rubber, easy to bend.

I appear like a rose, perfect and delicate
But really I am like a bird of paradise, unique and tough.

I may seem like sunshine, ONLY bright and cheery,
But I am like a rainbow, vibrant and diverse.
The perfect compromise between rain and sunshine.

I appear like a book, open to anyone who reads it,
But really I am like a treasure chest buried deep in the ground, closed to all, but who dig it up.

I Wonder Why...

I wonder why we repeat our mistakes.

I wonder why we feel the need to share our secrets.

I wonder why we need reassurance from others for our actions.

I wonder why we do things, knowing there would be consequences.

I wonder why we have rules, if rules are sometimes meant to be broken.

I wonder why we evolved the way we did.

Words To Live By. Or At Least Words I Live By.

          

           Words To Live By. Or At Least Words I live By.

"Don't call it a dream. Call it a plan." I feel these profound words are words to live by, because they are true. I chose this quote, as my Words To Live By, because I have big dreams. And I've always called them dreams. Because of this, my "dreams" have seemed out of reach. I came upon this quote and my whole outlook on my "dreams" changed. I realized calling something a specific thing for a long time makes it that. So calling your dreams a plan, will make them plans. And plans are usually fulfilled. So dream on. But don't call them dreams. Call them plans. Make them happen.  

Introduction by a World-Renowned Author

Just kidding. I'm not a world-renowned author, but I recommend you keep reading. But technically my work is published, because of this blog. My name is Shreya and I'm going into 7th grade. I reside in California and love it. Another thing I love, is writing. When I was younger, I liked to write mini stories for my own pleasure. Since then, my writing skills have obviously grown, but I hope to get better. Using this blog, I know I'll achieve my hopes. This blog will mostly include my outlook on a variety of subjects, written passages, and digital creativity (images, videos, voice recordings, etc.). I'm thrilled to begin writing on this blog, because I'll be able to get critique and learn from it. Normally, I write about characters like me. That makes it easier to put him or her in different situations, because all I have to write is what I, myself would do. I'm also pretty picky about my pick of genres. I usually write fantasy, mystery, and contemporary. With writing on my blog, I hope to experiment with a variety of genres, formats, storylines, and characters and broaden my writing. So read on. You know you want to.