''Slam Behind the Curtain scholarship
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Drive is essential. The thirst for succes and change Is quenched by hard work. Qualifications Help me reach my potential. Pushing my limits. Work ethic needed
Who is the true you? I am just one person trying to make a difference; the earth we use is not ours to destroy. We must protect it for those who come after us, like it was protected by those who came before us.
Because I love you I want you to love me I will believe in you like the young children believe in Santa Claus Be so open, unafraid to share your mistakes and your flaws Because I love you
The moonlight rises, Illuminating my creativity. I gain a new breath of life, To foster my productivity. I shuffle through my cards, Looking for a solution, Until I finally achieve,
I hide everything during the day, My secrets and all, They come out at might to play, Waiting for me to take the fall. They are my shadows, The dreams you can't see,
Ever sat there and wondered? Ever sat there and thought? Ever sat in the dark and wondered who you are? Ever avoid speaking words? Ever avoid being seen?
A red couch with baked-in trivets. The big black weary vagabond lands breathlessly, unknowingly awaiting its fated execution. The green papered ax falls. A silence echoes, which fades
Golden lines flash across a dreaming, sun speckled face. A child presses his nose against the vibrating glass of the moving train. The harassing authority figure sternly reprimands
The sun kisses the earth to bed. Fireflies dance to a silent song and the wind, their swift lover, caresses the earth. An earthly possession of expired, sun burnt leaves
OCD Sydney Jackson I place my browning Good Will bag on my kitchen counter
A girl with sunshine gleaming onto her hair A boy with a shirt, and on it a hare I look outside at the cold, grey weather And contemplate, ask myself whether Between their lips is a slice of bread
The real me is waiting Waiting for better to come Every obstacle I make it through It's just making it through one more One more school, one more military training, and one more work day
Born a baby girl Beauty all around and in every curl Cooing at the summers day Crying at the night's array She blossoms into a rose Gaining personality with every pose
An aspiring anesthesiologist, but it seems that will never be Intelligent in my own right but bound by the aftereffects of slavery
My biggest weakness is my insecurity Don't look at me I feel like everyone is staring And the judgment is blaring Don't look at my flaws
Growing up, everyone said that what your family does Will reflect on what kind of person you will become when you grow up. After hearing this so many times
The real me has a different name The real me wants to be adventurous and outgoing I don't want to have anxiety I don't want to be sick The real me loves anime The real me is filled with passion
How did we get to ten? Let's take a lokk and remember when. From a scale of one to ten, bad being a ten. Can you guess now, or should I still pretend? Skin portrays itself on her to be soft as ever,
Society says; You are 17, 5 ,and 18 You are 5 and 5 You are 150
don't fuck up now but here she goes again mind shuts down papers shuffle around heart is heavy and words are slow don't fuck up now the future hasn't even begun
You gave me a list of things I needed to change about myself and so eagerly, willing, I swallowed my pride and stocked the shelves of my mind with your criticism I mastered the art of cynicism
"I feel pretty Oh so pretty I feel pretty and witty"... Don't stop now keep singing they're looking at you. "I feel pretty"... No you don't. You feel fat. "Oh so pretty"...
I am the moon. Cowering behind the sunlight, so bright it’s blinding. Ready for my time to shine but only ever mirroring those who shine brighter than me.
There are angels in her hazel eye's, relationships ended to no ones surprise. Her children would laugh and often they'd cry, they ask for "daddy", but hes not in their lives.
The bell rings signaling the start She can escape the stares and rude names. But through her phone she is led to a world where she is brutally shamed.
Today I am here, cold-dark city nights Not very cold, not very dark, not many nights Dream of thousands running from hunger But today I am here, running from my cold-dark city nights
The rain poured in the meadow It reflected my mood, sadness So let it rain A butterfly landed softly on the railing over the river It is a single sign of happiness in this meadow