All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
Cracking the Wet Code
Some skies turn scarlet to forecast the next born steed.
One in which will grow to be a gentle and firm lead.
Morning’s dress of clouds and glistening beads,
Explains to the herd that it’s the time to water the little souls of their seeds.
Plants are watered when the weather is as so.
Examples of life are displayed ,and then they simply flow.
Off to receive the next step of their lives until they grow.
Parts of their leaves crumple when the snow
Lets its thin flakes glide on the crispy petals that perish extremely so slow.
Ending the autumn of children’s faces glow when the whistling winds play with them and blow.
Furthermore goes the jewels of water hanging in the foggy air.
Entering the sight with force, in which they can’t bear.
Exhaling all the gray it is full of and preventing any simple glare.
Lovely, though it stops the life of creatures surrounding its dim blare.
Thundering through the clicking sky,
Hail fires its icy transparent bullets from the cloud cannon so high.
Enduring, seemingly, but only for a few hours, and then it will die.
Rushing winds pass by, although strong, but tender and quiet in their eye.
A gray sky does not reflect how it will cry.
Inside its eye, is silent, but outside it will rage until a house’s roots pry.
Nothing but a terrible scene in a movie they ever will try.
But, I tell you, as snow creates for young souls fun,
Utterly, too much of something might create a terrible ton.
Too much of snow will create a blizzard, in which no one can see a mere glimpse of the sun.
Outburst of the the air, creates wind.
The life of living things taken away so quickly, faster than they can be pinned.
Houses annihilated from their now weak foundation, and the walls that were skinned.
Expelling the contents of the building, the heart of whom lived in the roof that was trimmed.
Rezoning the families memories and nightmares that had simply thinned.
Smoky chimneys breathe in the rain from the tornado’s path that can’t be outlined.
Jabbing the clouds and the gray sky,
Unzipping the crack in the clouds and rain which it can defy.
Snapping and clicking comes after the camera’s flash, capturing the shelter that is not dry.
Thunder and lightening fill the sky until the storm is over, and they die.
Gorgeous, shimmering stars; bright moon; and the blazing, radiant sun always appear.
Extended time if it took, it will always be clear
That every darkness and every shade has a purpose that is not as clear as a simple cheer.
When the rain spills, and the world turns gray,
Enchanted by the shining rays, a vivid rainbow appears in every creature’s way.
Thoroughly brightening every soul’s day.