Missionary
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pastel colors brush the sky
as water color memories fall on my cheeks
the sun sets on all things
even dreams
i must wake and realize
i am sick
i am dying
i have to leave
breathe.
I just came back home,
Now I will be starting school,
School life is different.
Maybe at first
it wasn"t my goal,
but eventually I
became so engulfed.
How could I ignore
the faces alone
dripping and
broken and
scarred to the soul.
Why must they suffer
Part I
The very inspiration began on a seventh day
Of the eight month of the year 2013 AD
A class by a master on translations
Triggering him to reveal a historic place
Unknown much, a place so great
They are waiting
I am waiting
I don't know them, they don't know me,
But we are waiting for each other.
I have prayed for them already.
I want to be a missionary.
All my life I've
There was no real winter in the desert.
As children, we would stair at the sky
And wish that the small white flakes would
Fall from the heavens and kiss our faces,
Like they did for the children on tv.
Sitting on the dusty ground;
looking, eyes scanning, always prowling for the little black speck.
The little black speck that shows life was here,
Here fifty million years have passed,
IF there was a job,
that could change your life,
what would you say.
Wouldnt that persuade you to achieve your dream,
I mean, who wouldnt want better for themselves
Isnt that why we're here
Many languages I will speak,Lessons are what I seek.To succeed in future careers,First I must join my college peers.
I sing for fun
But thats not enough
In my future I see myself singing
In everyone's ears, my voice is ringing
It's loud and clear,making
The competition chilled with fear
The struggles of life vary person to person.
"I can't pay rent" to
"I hate my extravagant life":
Those inevitable thoughts.
"If you hate it so much, change it,"
They said.
Being the youngest student in my grade, always felt weird. By the age of 15 years old I was a Junior in High School. I was very mature and ready to be independent. Looking for my first job was very stressful.
I always wanted to hear about how your days were drawn near, from the time you wake up in the morning, from the time you rest at night. The mind is a wondering device, how I long to know the answer to your every thought. Let me help. Let me see.
Beep. Click. Snap.
Say Cheese!
Upload. Photoshop. Scrap.
Let's Shoot Again.
You love the sound of it- photographer.
The way it rolls off your tongue.
The way you answer people when they ask,
A little hand reaching out for mine,
the first feeling that comes to mind,
sadness then joy.
I am hoping the years in health class and religious studies
has prepared me for such strife,
Traveling afar
A crowded bus
Moonlight bright
A world unknown
Unfamiliar faces
Destruction, despair
Sent on your behalf
I am a missionary
A dirt path
Fragmented steps
A little blonde girlshe stepped onto a plaine and away with her family she went
Away from her friendsand her comforts and carefreeswith her ponitailed hair all unkempt
They see pain and suffering all around,
And pray to ease the yolk,
I see another pack of noodles,
And just another bottle of Coke.
They see hypocrites and liars,
Fighting for what they know is right,
