Riddle

Okay, i know my sister (Kayla) is probably going to be reading my blog as of late, so please, please don't tell the answer to this! hehe. I got a riddle that only, so far, one person has been able to crack. lets see if you guys can get it.

What does man love more than life,
fear more than death or mortal strife?

What the poor have, the rich require
and what content men desire.

What spendrifts save and savedrifts spend,
and all men carry to their graves.

Pretty god, huh? came up with it around a year ago...(hint: the answer is obvious, you just to think a bit)

"It Never rains but it pores"
-The words of Freddie mercury in Under Pressure

As a child

OK, i understand that i didn't really want to write another one of these, but I'm bored, and i made another one for Lit. This one is supposed to follow our childhood years, so we pretty much have to write about all of ages from six to twelve.
And i think you'll notice by now that i enjoy writing depressing stuff (lol)

Beginning the journey of life,
age six was my year of magic
making friends, playing ball,
as a child i was freefalling.

Making my way into the world,
age seven was a year of freedom.
taking walks, sleeping over with friends
as i child i was freefalling.

Enjoying the last days of childhood,
Age eight was the year of fun.
biking and running,
as a child i was freefalling.

Taking first responsibilities,
age nine began an age of maturity.
Watching my sister, staying up late,
as a child i was freefalling.

Entering those infamous double-didgets,
age ten opened my eyes to the world.
Car bombings, murder,
yet, as a child, i was freefalling.

Sorrow forever more,
eleven was a year of darkness.
existing in solitude, enduring shame,

Standstill


Finding a last hope,
twelve was a year of rebuilding.
Reclaiming my pride, Reviving my dignity,
Making the jump once more.

This isn't really how i had written it (i forgot the entire first sentence to each one!) i still think it shows a lot of peoples lives as they really are..or how mine is. In fact, i would have been stuck at eleven for quite awhile until i had found a friend that i could really look up too, and who made me the person i am today (NOW, whether that's a good thing, you decide). The hard part is gonna be reading this to the ENTIRE CLASS. pure torture.

Ill try (once i find that piece) to make it as it once was. until then, you must endure this poem that took, well, ten minutes to think up.

The Meaning of Life

Okay, our LA teacher has this thing where we have to write poems and stories based on our life. One, which i think is my best, was a metaphorical poem. The Format is:
Metaphor stanza (I Am)
Metaphor stanza ( My Friend is)
Metaphor stanza (My Life is).
If you read this thing, i didn't really follow the format, but i think it's kinda good.
NOTE: get ready for some out-of-character gooey stuff.

Through the tempest of life I journey,
A simple vessel lost in the Unknown.
Through fire and lightning I endure,
Somehow breaking the crest of each wave.
On the horizon may i see a glimmer of hope:
another ship struggling amongst the storm.
To far to call for help, some stay afloat,
yet others others loose their will and sink into darkness.

Now and then might I see a friend:
an island, becoming me to rest,
to stay amongst their shores and shelter from the unending storm.
Lonely and Forsaken, i struggle to reach their warm embrace,
yet desperate as I am, i must be wary,
less i approach too quickly and crash amongst their rocky shores.
Though as tempting as it may be, I cannot linger in their warm currents,
For i am a wanderer, a vessel amongst the Tempest, and must continue the perils of life.

Again I dive into the abyss,
again destined to rock amongst the waves,
again forced to endure fire and lightning.
Time after time i must resist the embrace of the islands,
less I find myself captured in their waters, never to experience the journey again.
I must watch, helpless, as others are consumed by the storm,
Yet I must continue, as a wanderer, a vessel amongst the storm.
For I know that at the end of this tortured existence, that the last shore, that last light,
must await me at the end.

For i am a vessel amongst the Tempest, and forever must i journey through the perils of life.

Kinda dark, huh? Nevertheless, this is how many people's lives are, and even how I feel when I am at my most depressed state of mind. Enjoy my little glimpse into the meaning of life 8D.

PS. Still trying to figure out how to let comments actually work, but a really don't want to change the template. Until then, i guess I'll stay in the dark on my *ahem* great works *ahem*.