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Creative Writing Corner: Great Writing by MMS Students

I AM MARTHA

I am crazy and smart

I wonder about the future

I hear the cries of children

I see a utopia

I want to help people

I am crazy and smart

 

I pretend I’m a doctor

I feel sad when my family is sick

I touch the needs of kids

I worry about my family

I cry when someone in my family moves

I am crazy and smart

 

I understand it’s hard to achieve your dream

I say the sky is not the limit

I dream about my whole family happy

I try to get good grades

I hope I get into a good collage

I am crazy and smart

The curious girl

By Quinn Fisher

She sits outside under

The apple trees

Shade.

 

The warmth of the sun

Is cool under this

Apple tree.

 

The wind gently

Blows through her

Hair.

 

She stands up and picks

An apple from the

Apple tree.

 

She stands there

And looks at the

Apple hungrily.

 

She puts an apple to

Her lips and bites

The lush, juicy apple.

 

Juices run down her cheeks

And onto her chin so

She wipes it off.

 

She falls to the ground

In pain and

Dies.

 

She was told not to eat

The apple but she did

    
                                           

Softball

By Ashley A.

                               
                  
Softball is a passion,

                        Its the cheer of the crowd,                    

                        The feel of the crack of the ball,

                        The snap of the glove. 

                        It's knowing your game.

                        What is wrong what is right,

                        Its teamwork. 

                        Softball is standing in the field,

                        beating sun,

                        sweat dripping down your face.
                        It's the feel of a cold energy drink

                        Running down your throat.

                        Dirt in your cleets.

                        Softball sounds like yelling,

                        screams of encourgement from

                        teamamtes, fans, and coaches.            
                        It's mistakes,

                        Learning from those mistakes,

                        Makes you a better player.

                        Building your character.

                        Softball is a passion!

 

The Rake

By Ashley A.

 

                The rake.......the thought of it scared Mr. Leaf. Every year the rake, the grandfather with the snow white hair and hunched over back, and his granddaughter with the biggest frown and blond curls that bounced when she walked, would come outside with rake in hand. The granddaughter would always say, "Grandpa let me help you down the stairs." Then they would both rake up Mr. Leafs friends and family. It was a devastating time, and Mr. Leaf was always sad.

          One fall after all the leaves had fallen, and they were laying on the ground getting stepped on, bagged, crunched, raked, and torn. The grandfather and his unhappy granddaughter came outside to rake up all of Mr. Leaf’s friends and family. Mr. Leaf had had enough; he blew over to the grandfather's feet and yelled, "STOP!" The grandfather jumped and looked around. Mr. Leaf said in an upset voice, "Down here!"

          The grandfather gave a startled look and watched in amazement as Mr. Leaf told of all the sadness and depression the grandfather put Mr. Leaf through every year. The grandfather looked down, mouth wide with astonishment, and nodded his head understanding. Still in shock of witnessing something so unimaginable, he grabbed his granddaughter and said, "Darling we aren't going to rake anymore leaves." The granddaughter jumped with happiness because she disliked raking. They were walking back inside when the grandfather turned with a shocked smile and nodded his head. From that day forth, the grandfather and his granddaughter never raked his yard again, no matter how bad it looked once the leaves all fell. Mr. Leaf, his leaf family, and friends lived happily ever after along with the grandfather and his granddaughter.

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