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Crystal Peterson Oct 2016
The older generation still argues
That on the internet real connection
Is nothing but an illusion

They argue that conversations on the web
Have no value or substance
That they're fickle and pointless

But who are they to question
That which makes so many of their children
Happier and less lonely?

To them the internet means less connection
But if we can
As the younger generation
Feel more comfortable in sharing emotions
Are we not seeking less solitude
Than our parents and grandparents?

Is there a better or less costly form
Of therapeutic assistance
Than to share with those we connect with best
Out of millions of people to choose from?

If we can know everything
About a person's day
That they are willing to tell
Is it not important
Crucial to friendship
To know what goes on in another person's life?

Communication is only as valuable
As the speakers and listeners deem it
If it makes us feel better
More connected
Less alone
Then despite what others may think
It has value

Does the older generation
Truly see
Absolutely no value
In their children's
And grandchildren's
Happiness?

No matter how fickle they perceive it
It has value
To me
My father likes to talk about how pointless conversations on the internet are. I don't necessarily disagree. Sometimes, actually most of the time, they are quite ridiculously idiotic and seemingly pointless. But if those pointless little miss-typed conversations make the people involved happy, even if it is only an illusion of happiness so fleeting, then I say it's good. Furthermore it is, in fact, still real conversation, and those people can still be real friends, despite the webs being their only means of connection.
Crystal Peterson Sep 2016
Today I wrote a poem
Not to make people happy
But to cause them pain
I wanted them to hurt
As they had hurt me so

I wrote so they would cringe
At every line I spoke
Presenting to the class
I wanted them to squirm at what I wrote

I didn't just make it uncomfortable
I made it horrid and dark
I spoke the truth
Words never hurt more than when they're true
I cursed them all with reality

I've never written more passionately
Fueled by spite and rage
Then crashed after the high
But how wonderful it was!
To hurt with simply words
As they had done before

I know that it was wrong
But still
How wonderful as well
Crystal Peterson Sep 2016
So young and growing very quickly
On the verge of something grand
Developing techniques so swiftly
3DPrinting, you are a hope for man

For now most people use you simply
To make small items and worthless pleasures
Too lazy to appreciate you
They abuse your power for selfish leisure

Yet others do experiment
They rear you up for something greater
Fuel you with living tissue
Instead of cheap plastic and liquid paper

In Russia already there are mice
Who scurry with their beating hearts
You provided those for them
Replaced are the hearts they were born with

How long will it be now
Before you save human lives
And people marvel
At how whole organs you can provide?

Some people may be lazy
Some won't appreciate you
Others still may fear you
But I, 3DPrinting
See as much potential in you
As there is in the human imagination

How we use you can be our downfall
Or it can bring hope to thousands
It all depends on people
And the intentions we have for you
A school assignment.
Crystal Peterson Sep 2016
I once knew a man
Who lived for the chance
To sail across the open sea

But when he grew old
Without friend or foe
He found it was not meant to be

So when he moved on
Though none sang his song
He wandered the Earth forevermore

And still to this day
You can hear him say
"How I wish I had danced
When I'd had the chance
On the wind and the sea
And I'll never be free
Of this regret"
These are the lyrics to a Classic Art Song I wrote. It's meant to sound rather robust.

— The End —