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Anya 1d
It's a funny feeling,
to have a conversation
with a field hockey ball

It wasn't even a conversation,
Mostly I just gave it a baleful glare
For being hit straight towards the cage
And stopping

It truly didn't affect me in any way,
simply my inner angst
at my poor performance
being taken out on this innocent round
piece of plastic

Mostly, for eluding me
Yet, still stopping,
not by my efforts
But by the lack of force applied to it

It could have gone in
It could have been blocked

it chose to rest
just before the finish line
taunting me,
Proving to me,
that my effort is completely unnecessary
even an invisible entity
known as air resistance + friction
can do my job for me

By now you're probably wondering
who I am in this scenario
If I was an offender,
attempting to shoot
I'd desire the ball to cross
And I'd push it in
rather than subject it to my resentment

You, see
am the goalie
Rowan 1d
There's a huge bean bag in the corner
the color of rusted tree
and a white painted outline to hold two drawers
of colorful condoms next to the Keurig Machine.
Three circular winded fanciful lights strung above,
shedding semicircular splotches on the walls.
Looking out on the Brooklyn Bridge in the 1893
painted on in black and grey haunts.
There's a magnetic pillar to the left of the too-deep chairs
that at least are comfortable,
but no one has legs that long.
A magazine rack to the right lends a variety of color, from
Love Match to Lavender, it's a mismatch island.
Smells like plastic and a cold air, with a hint of college sweat.
And there's the squeaky roller chair full of business textbooks and drawings of pigeons and bitten fingernails and arms that lead to the edges of the paper.
Masked with worn All Star sketchers and three clocks ticking,
Long labored skies and horcruxes gathered round the edges.
Yet somehow with all the oddities combined,
it's safe and sound under the flag including.
How interesting
They treat me like I'm strange
But act just the same
We are all strange then. Which make us ordinary... not strange at all.
Everyone’s looking for an escape,
a virtual reality with alternative facts,
virtual because it’s almost reality,
except it’s reality without all the commitment,

and within,
a virtual reality we can augment,
what it used to be like back in base reality,
and we can ponder on where the time went,

& when  I say time,
I’m referring to the time in reality spent,
because after all reality is the only thing real,
and the experiences within them are the only thing you can’t invent,

see the truth is the only thing that exists in actually existence,

yeah sometimes truth is stranger than fiction,
ask Buckaroo Bonzai,
ask Stephen Hawkings ask Steve Jobs and,
ask yourself why you’re alive,

why you put up with the pain,
why you put yourself through,
why you still hesitate to act on instinct,
when you know there’s nothing to it but to do it,

everyone too scared to speak up,
but everyone wants to be a hero,
there’s not much purity to speak of,
and evil seems to wear a halo,

hey bro,
or sis,
or whatever label,
you label yourself with,

there’s not much untainted land left,
there’s not much clean water,
the days are getting shorter,
and the nights are getting longer,

the hearts are getting colder,
but the earth is getting hotter,
plus these days reality is such a pain,
it often doesn’t seem worth the bother,

maybe the rebellion can’t begin,
because maybe it’s already done,
but then again maybe it’s only getting started,
and maybe the games have only just begun,

and if this is the case,
then you know it’s already on,
but just one question before we begin,
are you Ready Player One?

∆ Aaron LaLux ∆
One foot down the rabbit hole,
What has my rabbit gotten me into,
These people seem a bit mom and dad,
I have woken up in some kind of foreign land.
This is all so alien to me,
I do not know what it means,
I don't know if I should continue burrowing,
It is causing me to get lost in a haze.

Knee deep down the rabbit hole,
My rabbit has bought me back again,
I thought there could not be more to this,
But I have barely scratched the surface.
There is so much the eye can't see,
So much that we can't comprehend,
Maybe if I keep on burrowing,
I will begin to understand.

Waistline down the rabbit hole,
My rabbit tells me to keep on burrowing,
My beliefs now contrast each other,
So I pit them against one another.
I set myself upon a pedestal,
Take a long hard look at myself,
Which life must I choose to live,
And which life must I leave behind.

Up to my neck down the rabbit hole,
I can see the bigger picture,
In the smallest of details,
That were hidden right in front of my eyes.
I can't see the world as I did before,
There is no going back now,
I can now see through the fantasy,
I can now see the reality.

My rabbit is dragging me down the hole,
How deep down does it go,
I keep sinking further in,
I'm going places I've never been.
I am not what I was,
and what I was I will never be again,
what I saw,
I can never unsee,
It has become a part of me.

Follow me down the rabbit hole,
Into the unknown we go.
Burrow down to find the answer.
Nathan 7d
Albuna Sep 12
It is strange,  strange how someone can hurt you so much.
Strange how you can't sleep because of this person, how you stay awake the entire night because you think of him.
It is strange how you suddenly want to be around him or hear his voice.
It is strange how every time when he looks deeply in your eyes your body starts to shake.
It is strange how when you think of him your eyes start to shine or you automatically smile like an idiot.
It is strange how your body can't move when he touches you.
Strange how you listen to every word he says.
Strange how you love it when he speaks about his passion.
Strange how you know everything about him but he nothing about you.
Strange how your friends say to stay away from him...
Strange how you don't listen to them , you don't hear their warnings.
Strange how you believe everything HE says.
Strange how he doesn't want to know more about you and only speaks about his problems.
Strange how you help him with his problems, understand him,and everytime something happens you are there for him.
You drag him out from the black hole he falls everytime.
Strange how he writes with many other girls, how he sends them hearts like he did it everytime to you.
Strange how he wants pictures, pictures of your body.
Strange how he doesn't ask about your problems.
Strange how his problems can't let go out of you, how you keep them inside of you, until they destroy you.
Strange how he called you everyday and now he doesn't have time anymore.
Strange how you can't let go of him.
How your inside breaks when you hear his name.
How your tears you hold inside for too long find their way out.
Now we don't write anymore as we once did.
We don’t meet each other anymore.
You don’t talk with me about your problems anymore.
I wish you two good luck and I hope that she doesn't break too.
Nobody has to go through this shit. NOBODY.
I hope that you will treat her better.
That you will listen to her.
That you will help her.
And the most important that you will LOVE her.

To the ones who fall in love with the wrong person.
Vivek Sep 4
Slept on Earth, after glass of Anisette!
Woke up on a strange planet!
They were all looking at me!
No air, no tree!
The people there, They had wings!
They were trying to say something!
But I didn't know what it meant!
It was different environment!
They were all dark blue with tails!
With No hairs, no nails!
The sun was green!
Humans nowhere to be seen!
I started to lean n slept in pain!
Then I woke up on the Earth again!

Dev Aug 31
I listen to the wind blow
But I do not watch for I do not know
Because of fright I do not look
I just continue to read my book
The strong howls that I hear
Seem to strike up too much fear
For it to be just a gust of air
Why do I feel such a great scare?
Ever so often the moon peeks
To show the little light I seek
I dare to glance out the window
Only to see the basic I did know
But take another look again
And there I see a chilling friend
I quickly run to lock the door
But I must glance just once more
Expectant to see the creepy stranger
Nothings there just my deepest anger
My eyes I use as such a sturdy tool
Seem to do nothing but make me a fool
I must suffer a sleepy head
So I turn back to go to bed
Than before I know it
I am dead
Written in 9th grade instead of completing homework.
A M Ryder Aug 29
In such strange ways I strangely cannot understand
The horror of it all is we stay attracted to everything that hurts
We cling to it and never really learn to let go
So perhaps we do want happiness
But we also desire to keep the pain close; close enough to destroy us
Close enough to define us
Close enough to make us all feel a little less cold
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