tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3369573486777145502011-04-21T20:33:22.990-07:00I am eleven and my poems may be dark, but my outlook is bright with enthusiasm.Cadencehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00604583396169214122noreply@blogger.comBlogger21100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-336957348677714550.post-24062251271820495062008-02-13T09:46:00.000-08:002008-11-12T19:58:58.814-08:00<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;">I was walking home on a cold Christmas afternoon when I noticed a dumpster right in my path. In it was a chair. "Why would anyone throw this away?" I whispered to myself. Then I noticed a sign on the dumpster. It said GOOD WILL. "I was going to take it home." I said a little too loudly.<br /><br />I know I wasn't supposed to, but I climbed up, took hold of its arm rests, closed my eyes and pretended I was in a space ship. I was just about to turn on the A4 Regulator when the chair started shaking!<br /><br />A loud, deep, mellow voice started to speak. "What is your wish?" the voice said.<br /><br />"Who's there?" I shouted.<br /><br />"I am the wishing chair. Make a wish." it said once more. I was too scared not to follow the directions so I did just that. I closed my eyes and said my wish in my head over and over. Suddenly, I felt something in my lap. I opened my eyes. It was a box that said, To: Cadence From: Santa <br /><br />Beside the chair was a bag of cat food, two bowls, a litter box and a scooper. I opened the box and out popped the cutest kitten I've ever seen. I couldn't believe it! My wish came true!</span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DmgDS2Ftslk/R7MwvnAmGVI/AAAAAAAAABk/5dtAtMdbfRE/s1600-h/kitten.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DmgDS2Ftslk/R7MwvnAmGVI/AAAAAAAAABk/5dtAtMdbfRE/s400/kitten.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166526792007555410" border="0" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/336957348677714550-2406225127182049506?l=lovingrhythm2.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Cadencehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00604583396169214122noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-336957348677714550.post-39861372341985333892008-02-13T09:09:00.000-08:002008-11-12T19:58:59.189-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DmgDS2Ftslk/R7MmHnAmGNI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/MKhoF4zph8A/s1600-h/INVISIBLE.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DmgDS2Ftslk/R7MmHnAmGNI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/MKhoF4zph8A/s400/INVISIBLE.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166515109696510162" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;">There he is.<br />I feel my heart stop.<br />I hear my breath getting faster and faster.<br />I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out.<br /><br />He walks slowly by.<br />An army of embarrassment shoots rapidly at my somach.<br />Do I chase after him, speak the words never spoken?<br />Or do I stay here looking pathetic?<br /><br />I am invisible.<br /></span></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/336957348677714550-3986137234198533389?l=lovingrhythm2.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Cadencehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00604583396169214122noreply@blogger.com1