Showers (Poem)

Showers are the only place, it appears,
the only place where you can hide your tears.
Hot, raining water will drown out
the sound of your horrible crying, no doubt.
Whenever you're sad, you should sit there,
let it all out and breathe in the air.
Regain your senses, think it all through.


Oh, before you get out, be sure to shampoo.

n.n

My friend's teacher refused to teach him and his classmates about the Holocaust.
His excuse? It was "too harsh" to teach young people.

I deeply apologise in advance, but what a HORRIBLE teacher. Why is he even teaching History in the first place!? As boring as History is (to most, for I LOVE History), the point of teaching it is so that we can learn what our ancestors did and NOT repeat the negatives. Nobody wants to even THINK about experiencing another Holocaust, another World War, or any of those tremendous, life changing events. The mere thought of it scares me.

Advice~

One of my favorite artists suggested you carry a notepad with you at all times. Who knows, maybe you'll suddenly have a great concept you want to write or draw about. You don't want to forget about it.

Flyin' High

Anyone reading this, could you give any feedback/comments/suggestions? Thank you. ^^
I'll be editing this as time goes if I need to.

When I write... Well, people don't die. This was a big jump for me. e.e
____
It wasn't a typical day at the park I walked to. Various feathers, long and short, lay all over the grass. A girl in colourful clothing cried in fustration, and the pigeons she chased around flocked wildly. She took a deep breath before swinging her net again, barely missing. The lucky pigeon she aimed at landed on a nearby, lonely bench. She groaned and hit the ground, sighing.
"Do you like birds or something? You're trying really hard to catch one," I asked, walking over to her side. I stared down at her. Her eyes showed helpless.
She quickly replied, "I hate birds." I extended my arm and helped her back onto her feet. She clenched her net as hard as she could and looked up. Curious, I jerked my head up to see what she was looking at. I saw nothing but blue sky and clouds slowly floating through the open air.
"Yet... They can do something humans will never be able to the achieve. And that's the ability to fly."
Looking more determined than ever before, she sneaked as quietly and swiftly as possible, successfully catching the unsuspecting pigeon in her net. I didn't exactly know whether I should be happy for her or not, but she looked quite content. She waved goodbye to me and ran off, holding the net so the poor, trapped creature wasn't able to escape.
____
Stupid bird's trapped now. I carefully grabbed it, threw it in the cage hanging by the open window, and slammed the cage door shut. How did it feel to be trapped inside? Well, you know what, bird? I feel just like you. I want to escape the human limits and explore what's out there. What's beyond the clouds that pass by everyday? How does the world I live in look at a different perspective? Well, I'll find out. I'll find out soon enough.
I carefully forced the pigeon to spread its wings with a tweezer, and I started drawing and studying its anatomy. A bird's wings are beautifully crafted. I'll craft beautiful wings too. I let the bird's wings finally rest and fed it a cracker. Don't worry, little guy. I'll free you tomorrow. We'll both be free to explore the skies...
____
I watched as a pigeon flew through the air. It seemed quite wobbled in its movements. Was its wing possibly injured? My eyes switched its attention to a tall, modern building that sat near the park. I squinted my eyes. A girl with a determined face stood on top of the roof. On her arm, she seemed to have... a pair of stunningly constructed wings. She took a big step forward, and soon started to pick up the pace... Was she thinking that she could fly!?
"Stop! Stop running!" I yelled hopelessly. Either she didn't hear me, or she did and ignored me. I had a feeling she was ignoring. The girl lifted her left foot off the building, then her other foot. She jumped into the air. I stared at her, speechless, as she seemed to glide through the air a little. She managed to extend her reach to the unknown. The first human to ever touch the sky, to have had a feeling of freedom. She wore the happiest face I've ever seen on a girl.
It disappeared.
I covered my mouth, shocked at the sight in front of me. There was a girl. Her breathing had slowed to a stop, and she wore a pair of broken wings, tattered with blood.

Meh

I know this is supposed to be a writing blog, but I'll be using this for drawings too.
I HAVE A REASON.

Drawing = a form of art. Writing = a form of art. Therefore, Drawing = Writing.

Use your head sometime, it can do amazing things. :)