The Blood That Flows From PensThere are more than just words on her page. There is a meaning behind her pen, behind every tap of the keyboard. She means everything when her thoughts dance along the page…her words carry life. She breathes imagination into this bleak world, gives it thought, a heart, a brain. Without her, what would be Earth?Her curves of the pen are the colors; the greens, the browns, the blues. The trees, the skies, the waters. Her literature is like God, shaping a planet. Perhaps she is Mother Nature of this world? Oh, what would her creations be like?She wants to be heard. She wants to make a difference.Can she be that smiling face that brightens your day?Can her words be your pillow at night?Do not forget her. She thrives, little feathered wings beating.Do not forget her, for, she feels she is the only one dying.Do not forget her, for, she is much more than she thinks she is.Her words are working hands, crafting our world, and many others.Dying.Do not forget her.
Please, Just Tell Me A Story.Tell me a storyof knights and dragonsbecoming friends in the end.Tell me a story of loveconquering all of the pain.Tell me a storywhere the parentputs down the bottleand the child is no longer scared.Tell me a storywhere I do not have to fearfor my lifebecause the world is allbetter now.Speak of governmentspolishing off thewrongSpeak of wheredeath is unheard of.Preach!Tell me of Godtell me of His handand the place where He welcomes.Shout!carry the voiceof thewind.Just tell me a storyof a world far unlikeour own.Where the childscreams forjoy instead.Just tell me a storyof wheremy dreamswill take mebecause this worldis a dark place.- Alicia Wild.