When Lightening Strikes

They can all feel it; the storm.

Everything so still,

The tension so thick,

All anticipating for the worse.

Oh how unpredictable it was,

How severe the damage would be.

No raincoat or umbrella could prevent the outburst,

Because he’s home.

It’s the storm that drives into the garage at 6pm,

That invites the heavy rain and lightning.

He scares away the weak,

While striking out the brave.

Her brother called him a ticking time bomb,

Always ready to explode.

But she saw him as a lightning bolt,

Killing every speck of serenity that remained.

After hours, the storm passes.

Leaving only the tear-stained pillows,

Damaged bonds,

And a bitter heart within.

She wanted her dad back,

They all did.

But it is just a matter of time,

That she was forced to endure another storm.

How to Return from the Land of Broken Dreams

Lost in a pitiless black hole or resting on an empty piece of land, these broken dreams quietly live amongst us, waiting to be found. Live up to your dreams, don’t neglect them to and just leave them to sit in your past. Like the reins of a horse’s carriage, take control and you will end up where you hoped to be. Sit back and watch the day’s breeze on by? You will be broken like most of these lost dreams.

First, comes something called, self realization. Perfect relationships turn sour, the fastest runner will not always win first place, the smartest kid in class will not always get A’s on tests and dreamy fairy-tale endings are not always destined for everyone. Realize that everyone will have gloomy days, which leads to the second step.

Next, pick yourself up in the midst of it all. Before hitting rock bottom, before sobbing over what should have been done, before hating yourself, carefully gather the shattered pieces and steadily walk away. Leave the past in the back and look forward to what awaits you in the future.  Continue to tackle the steepest of mountains, the bumpiest of roads, and the biggest obstacles there are.

The third step is always the hardest part – prove it. Roaring lightening will strike down on you in hopes you will give up.  Merciless waves will crash you back to the ground just to see you struggle to pick yourself back up. The winds will throw anything in its way to get you frustrated, but ask yourself, how bad do you want this?

The final step is to believe in yourself because if you don’t then who will? Have a little faith and take that leap that you always dreaded. The haze will begin to clear and the path to your dreams will eventually open up in you favor. When you are finally able to cross the threshold of dreams to reality, do not let it go. Embrace what you have and never stop dreaming and wishing upon the stars, in the endless galaxy of opportunities.

Best Friend

He is the brown caramel swirls in a cookie

He is the bright lights in the disco ball

He is the highest branch of my mango tree

He is the tickles in my belly

He is the comfort in my pillows

He is the fresh fragrance of my dishwashing soap

He is the sweetness of the fresh chocolate covered strawberries

He is the grace in a bird’s flight

He is the dancing classes that I look forward to

He is my new best friend


Her tears dried
As the sunlight beamed down
With a hidden truth
That no one had found.

As the sunlight beamed down
Her visible scars healed
That no one had found
Under vibrant smiles, used as shields

Her visible scars healed
But the hurt still remained
Under vibrant smiles, used as shields
Because nothing could fix, emotional pain

But the hurt still remained
With a hidden truth
Under vibrant smiles, used as shields
Her tears dried.


Please Don’t Look in the Bag

I was only 10 at the time. I lost my mom in the midst of a concert. She decided to bring me along to a rock ‘n roll concert. It wasn’t a place for someone my age. However, as a single parent, she was obliged to. I glanced up at her and tugged on the tight seam of her shirt. I wanted to get her attention, but she neglected me the entire night. She was too busy surfing the crowd and jerking her body back and forth to the intense booming music coming from the speakers.

Eventually, as the night went on, I lost her. The only person I knew in the mob of tall scary people had abandoned me. My mom was nowhere to be found. The only part of me that was left was the purple bag that I grasped tightly to my body. I was not about to lose it. I crawled my way under crazy sweaty maniacs and walked out of the gates.

To my surprise, I was safe. Maybe some minor cuts, but for the most part I was fine. As I sat outside the building I realized that my bag was gone. There were all types of things in it, but most importantly I kept my notebook in there. There was important confidential information in there and a map that showed me the way home.

I ran to the concessions; a sweet little lady graciously allowed me to use her phone. I do not have money to reward the person who finds it, but I hope that someone will return my bag. And I entailed one more request on Craigslist; please do not look in the bag.

Endless Worries

 My life could maybe end right this second.

The sky could decide to fall tonight.

My dad could decide to go crazy and kill me while I sleep,

Or a 5-headed monster might attack me through my opened window.

My alarm clock might not go off for school.

I could trip and tumble down the bus steps

My dog could have truthfully eaten my homework

I maybe could have finished this assignment but it wouldn’t save.

School work could maybe keep me up all night.

Tomorrow in class I maybe could get in trouble for sleeping.

I might be sent to the office for maybe still sleeping during other classes.

The nurse could send me home for not feeling well.

And then I would be excused from turning in the assignment for today.

My Tutu

There once was a tutu from Maui

At whom grandpas shouted “please call me”

So she gave them her name

But it was only a game

Oh that silly old tutu from Maui.


As a 16-year-old teenager who dedicates her entire life to school and extracurricular activities, I have the luxury of living in a house for free. There are no bills to pay because my parents are left to take of that. Therefore, I am entitled to do chores around the house in exchange. These chores include washing dishes, throwing out the rubbish, and the easiest one of them all, feeding my fish named Cat.

It was my idea to get a fish a year ago because they were simple to care for. To make my life much easier, I was responsible only for feeding Cat, the easy part. On the other hand my mom inherited the hard part of washing the tank monthly. Adding another task to my already busy life, I would never guess that what I saw as the easiest chore was realistically the chore that needed the most precautions. It only took a matter of seconds to realize that house chores should be taken seriously because sometimes, the mistakes you make cannot always be corrected. 

Due to my carelessness my soda can slipped through my hands and fell into the fish tank, contaminating the water. My entire soda that I had not taken one sip out of yet went to waste.  After a few seconds, it finally dawned on me that I should take the soda can out of the tank. I immediately reached in and tried to prevent any more soda from spilling into the water.  I glanced at my fish to see how she liked the caffeine. Personally, I think Cat loved the soda. She did a few summer salts at first and then underwater cartwheels. She topped the performance off by back floating to the top of the surface, while holding that position for hours. I thought to myself, “What a talented fish I have!”

Introduction to “First Day of Kindergarten”

It was as far back as I could remember the first day of Kindergarten. My mom had dressed me in jeans overalls with a diamond embroidered happy face, the size of my palm, which lay right in the middle. I wore my favorite pink and white sandals that lit up every time I stepped down. All of my school supplies were packed the night before in my rolling knapsack. I was so excited. The next morning, I got up bright and early to get ready. My mom tried to make my hair into pig-tails but I refused and continued to pull off the hair ties until she finally gave up. I walked out of the car with no hand or body to hang on to like a baby bird whose mother is pushing it out of its nest. I was a shy girl but still eager and anxious to finally go to what I called then, “the big girl school.”

Besides the daily nap times that I hated, kindergarten always entailed something fun and new. Some days, I got to go in front of the class and play ‘teacher’. Other days I got to play ‘house-house’ with friends and I always loved to play the mommy or daughter role. Making new friends in kindergarten was much easier than trying to befriend a stranger today. The guys did not judge you by your appearance, girls did not label you by what they heard and the teachers were your second best friend, after your mom. Whether you came to school with the 8-pack crayon set or the 64 one, whether you had the most silver teeth or not, or whether you did not have the coolest object to share during “show and tell,” everyone still loved you and wanted to be your friend…(read the rest of the story in the print edition of We Digress being released in May 2011.)

Figment of Her Imagination

 This is a poem that crushes you to a million pieces 

In the arms that you felt the safest in, 

In the arms that you let every barrier down, 

This is a poem, 

That will tear your heart out 

Because he never really cared 

Because people move on 


And when time finally heals all wounds, 

She can finally smile again. 

This is a poem that assures you, 

That everything will be okay 

Along the path to inner happiness 

And that sometimes, 

The memories we once held onto for so long, 

Become the dark meaningless shadows we ignore.




My Favorite Place

The beach is my favorite place to be. 

Here I can see the ginormous blue sky smiling down like the Caribbean Sea, 

The rainbow umbrellas flying away like an untamed animal 

And the blinding white sand dancing under my feet like a circus show in production 

I can hear the local island music from my speakers, 

The merciless waves crashing down like glass shattering, 

And the sweet contagious laughter from the little kids playing 

I can feel the cold refreshing ocean caressing my body as I go into the water, 

My sandy slippers squeaking its way to the truck 

And my salty dry hair blowing in the summer’s wind 

While I relax my body into the smooth sand, 

I can see, I can hear, I can feel in my favorite place, 

The beach 



I had a meerkat that was very mean 

He ate all of my fish as a part of his evil scheme  

I finally kicked him out of my house  

So he decided to leave me a dead fat mouse 


If I Forgot to Tell You

I ate your birthday cupcake 

While you were asleep 


If I forget to tell you, 

I’m telling you now 

I’m sorry 


I thought I’d help you cut down calories,  

So I ate it. 


A Jumble Story

“Places everyone, places!” The stage manager was stressfully running everywhere trying to get all of the models ready for their show. The lights began to dim and catchy, adrenaline-pumping music began to blast through the speakers. The first model comes out and all heads turn, as she owns the stage. The crowd begins to applaud. I was only 10 years old at the time. The models continued to stomp down the runway displaying the newest trends from the designer. I never took my eyes off of them; they were all so perfect. 

A couple minutes into the show, a wave of raw cookie dough I had eaten before began to upset my stomach.  I tried to ignore it, but it only got worse. I went to the restroom, but the only girl’s toilet available had a sign that said “Out of Order.” Impatiently, I just ran into the male’s one. 

I was finally done. However, the toilet paper was way out of my reach. The lazy little kid I was, I stayed seated on the toilet and reached over random miscellaneous things. Just a fingernail away from grabbing hold of the toilet paper roll, I accidently knocked down everything I tried to dodge in the first place. The little bar soap, the freshener and the jar filled with flower petals all fell in the toilet. I honestly panicked. There was a knock on the door, and I just replied, “Yeah, hold on, I’m almost done.” 

My first instinct was to just flush everything down, so I did; not knowing that it wouldn’t work. The water began to overflow, and the water continued to rise. I ran out as fast as I could. In the meantime, some guy went in and soon figured out the stream of water that was overflowing. 

Everyone began to believe that it was the restaurant owner, named Big Braddah Cody, but only I knew that he was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. He was hired for the event to cater the food for the evening. My guilt began to catch up with me. I needed to confess up, but all I could remember was being afraid of going to jail. I knew that if you did something bad, the scary guys in uniform with a gun at their waist would come and lock you up for years. 

The issue had escalated, so I knew I had to speak up.When I eventually had the guts to speak up, I innocently told everyone what had happened and cleared things up that it was me who clogged the toilet. I was surprised at everyone’s expression. They all laughed, but I suppose it was better than having angry faces just stare straight at you. 

Then finally, the screen fades to black and the credits begin rolling upwards starting with one of the main characters, John Crater who played Big Braddah Cody. The oscar award-winning movie got a standing ovation from the audience.  


When the Sun Goes Down

He had small feet but the voice that could move mountains. Little Landon was only 10 years old and was known around town for his amazing God given voice. It was very common for someone to address him as just the boy with the good voice. He would kindly respond, “Please call me by my name.” However, deep down, it did crush him to know that, that was the only thing anyone knew about him. He excelled in dancing as well, but no one really acknowledged that. 

In school, he stood out like a sore thumb. Amongst the other boys who enjoyed rough playing with each other, Landon was different. During recess and his free time, he enjoyed choreographing new dance routines and he would sit alone by the jungle gym to practice singing the newest lyrics he would have written at home the night before.  Kids would tease him all the time for being a boy interested in dancing and singing. No one really understood him. 

At home, it was no different. He was the youngest of three brothers and was often criticized, by his dad, who was the head football coach of their local high school, for being too interested in things girls would most often be interested in. 

“Brother with the good voice! Come help me with the dishes,” demanded his oldest brother Elijah. 

“How many times do I have to tell you, please call me by my name,” said Landon. He hated that and even though it was a compliment, he wanted to be recognized by his name. 

When the sun went down, Landon’s life would change, drastically. On a good note, he won his schools’ talent show. However, his dad had collapsed right before they went out to watch his performance. The principal notified Landon about his father and kindly drove him to the hospital. 

Finally meeting up with his dad, who was very weak, it was then that they would exchange their final words. 

“My son with the good voice, hold my hand,” said his father with weakness in his voice. Landon went over to his father’s bedside and grabbed his hand tightly. 

“Yes dad? Oh and please call me by my name.” 

With his voice fading away he used every part of his body to say his last words. 

“My talented and youngest son, just promise me that whatever you do in life, it makes you happy. Daddy has to go now, and always remember, I love you, Landon.” 

And suddenly, his father’s head sank back down in the pillow. 

Sniffling away his tears with a cracking voice Landon said his last words. “I love you, Daddy.” 

From all of the ridicule he endured at school and everyone in his family who taunted him for his uniqueness, he has learned the greatest lesson of all from his father. It was to stand up for what you believe in, even if it means standing alone. 


Baby Shrub

At first, nothing 

No experiences to revert to 

Not a single idea that allows her to progress 

Although suddenly, she might just have a clue 


A straight forward girl who leaves out the fluff 

Sits alone while beginning to type a sentence or two, 

Keeping it simple 

And it should be enough 


She begins as a baby shrub 

With no guidance and direction 

Overtaken by the quick bloomers around 

She listens in the back carefully and doesn’t make a sound 


Fed with rain and sunlight, 

The baby shrub is no longer a baby 

For it begins to blossom, 

Finally capable of flowing with the summer’s breeze. 


Still not at its best, 

The growing shrub continues to take in more sunlight and water 

Optimistic and never wanting to quit 

She knows in time, in the end, it will be all worth it. 


Writing Philosophy

I think writing is important because being able to write and get your point across to the reader is always a good skill to have and writing is also a good coping mechanism when you need to express your feelings but have no one around to be able to listen. 



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