Love

What does it mean to be in love:
To know that the one you're with is yours
How do you know if your in love:
When you've nursed a broken heart
From one who you thought was yours
But for some reason you couldn't let go.

If you're in love with someone, you can't bare to let go
You want to hold them in your arms and fight to keep them yours.

My Heart

My heart is yelling inside my chest
It's telling me to go
It say's "You want him"
But your mind is saying "NO!"
What do I see in him
That makes me want to be with him?
Maybe he's so goofy
And he makes me laugh
Maybe it's the fact that he's quiet
Maybe I'm feeling this out of pity or my pain
But I know that no matter what happens
I'll never stop thinking about him
And my heart will always belong to him.

Have You Ever Felt Like Everyone Was Against You?

Have you ever felt like everyone was against you? Like you were trapped in a box where everyone could see you fighting to survive, but loosening everything you hold on to tightly? How you want to just explode, tell them how you really feel about them, and yourself? Have you ever tried to just push it all away? How you fought to push away from reality, from all the blood, pain, war, death, and life in general, and to create that special world, where you're in control of it? Where you're safe from your fears, worries, and pain, or where you can face the things you fear, worry, or just need more time to chill? Have you ever felt that you are worthless, different, or abnormal? Like everything you love, and hold is nothing. Like you're tucked away in some little box in the corner where you can't overcome what weights you down, where you are powerless or nothing?

    Well, don't worry. We all have those day too.

What Does It Mean To Be An Ironman?

What does it mean to be an Ironman?
     To be an Ironman,

• You are strong
• You are willing to fight
• You do your best,
• And you never give up.
• No matter what.

     To be an Ironman,

• You support your peers
• You help them when they fall,
• And you help them down their paths,
• You show them how to make it
• And you help them fight for what they want

      To be an Ironman,

• You give 100%
• You lead the way for everyone else
• You be the light for the darkened path
• Work to do what you can
• And you never say, "I can't"

      To be an Ironman,

• Just be yourself
• Believe in what you believe in
• Support what is right
• But most of all,

Being an Ironman,
Isn't just about one person;
It's a group, a family, your peers

To be an Ironman is to be part of
   The Central Catholic family

Keep Mr. Lowell at Central

A/N: Mr. Lowell was a teacher I had in high school who was very much a second father to me. He's the reason I have never stopped writing, especially when shit was hitting the fan because he showed me that my writing was the best when everything was going wrong. It was, and still is, my escape from the real world. While in high school, Mr. Lowell helped myself and several of my classmates bring back our literary magazine The Cauldron. For six years, it was the strongest club and student-ran publication until he was fired. This was my way of releasing the poison of losing such a wonderful man and friend.

Dear Administration,
You take away our freedom of speech
Expect us to just sit down and shut up
Angry when we don't do just that
We have no freedom of any kind
Now that you're in charge
We kids need an outlet
A place to go and vent
To release the stress you have us all under
So we restarted The Cauldron to do just that
And for six short years that club was great
Until the day you decided to end it
We knew it was coming
Most should have excepted it
We know you never saw eye to eye with him
So you sacked him
Probably with smiles on your faces
He told us in a poem
for the last Cauldron he'd ever build
Then he asked his buddy to read it
Cause he couldn't speak
Then we did the only thing we could think of
We hugged him
We cried
We begged him to tell us why
All he said was "I wasn't given a reason."
To some, he was just some dumbass teacher
No different then the rest
But to a select few, he's been more than that
He's been a teacher, a second father, a friend, a shoulder to cry on
Someone to talk to when we had no where else to go
Someone we could ask for help from when the going got tough
For some of us, he's the reason we graduated
Cause he'd keep us on the right path
Lowell is someone who this school can't afford to lose
Haven't you two done enough already?
Mr. Ertle is gone and that's a damn shame
Then we lost Koby, Lambert and Hyland
Now it's Lowell
So who's next on the cutting block?
Clark and Wrobo?
How much sense does this make?
Getting rid of the good teachers
Were you drunk or possibly stoned
When you decided...
"Let's not bring back Lowell?"
We promised him that we wouldn't be stupid
That we wouldn't make it worse
But you know what?
The hell with that
We're a student body
And we care about our own
Remember when Coach Burke left?
We'll we're about to do that and more
Now you're gonna sit back and wonder "What are they going to do?"
"They were terrible when Burke left, so what else is there they can do?"
And we hope you're good and scared
Cause this one mistake is gonna cost yah and lead to more problems
But for right now, I'd like to personally thank you
For ruining what WAS Cleveland Central Catholic
Because now that he's gone, it shows what kind of school you want to run
And a sincere hope that more run, more follow him out the door
Because it's going to be hard to run a school
When everyone is gone
But always remember while in bed at night
The more pissed off the kids are
The less they'll come to school
And the more problems you'll suddenly have
But always look on the bright side of things
At least you can take comfort in knowing that you created them
Best Regards!

The Time of The Gathering

Now is the time of The Gathering
A moment all immortals have waited centuries for
Each knowing that in the end there can be only one
And all others will have been back to the grave to rest

Fighting off the scared Holy Grounds of churchyards and cemeteries
Friends and foes alike
All trying to survive the fight
While their victim's Quickening fills the night



The reward of the head brings them power
As the lighting and explosions of fire fill the night
The bravest and strongest of immortals brought down to their knees
Receiving this scared power

The Game...
The Gathering...
The Power of the Quickening...
In the end there can be only one...
In the end, may it Duncan MacLeod...
In the end, it is...
The Highlander

Pretty Pink Rose

this pretty pink rose alone on my desk
breaking my heart while it's trying to rest
wanting to cry. but no tears left
and there's still this pretty pink rose alone on my desk
pain in my heart that's too much to bear
thoughts in my head, make me hate going to bed
trying to accept that you never loved me at all
that i was simply some stupid pawn
you beg for forgiveness that i want to give
you say "I'm so sorry. It was an accident"
want to believe you, want you to stay
but finding it hard for me to say
love more then you'll ever know
you're the first one who ever held that love
we laughed when we were together
we talked, we dreamed
we had a future together, just you and me
marriage and family someday down the road
our lives whole and together
with nothing to come in between
but that's all broken
my polish all gone
worn down to the bone
of hatred and dread
wanting to rest but still find that i can't
so many unanswered questions swim around in my head
did i drive you away or could i have made you stay?
did you love me at all, or was this just a game?
why me? i simply want to cry out, to scream
why did you of all people have to go off and hurt me?
the love was real, the dreams pure, true
you said you had everything you needed
with me in your world
so sitting here thinking
in the silence of night
looking at a pink rose
wishing with all my might
that my pain is a bad dream
that you never cheated
with the several other girls I head about while I was weeping
yet still looking at this rose
begging and pleading
looking for a card that says, "I'm sorry. Forgive me?"
or for you in the background
waiting, watching,
a ring would be nice
you putting it on my finger
telling me that from now on i'm yours
but alas, the stars lay twinkling in the sky
and my tears now cover the pink rose as I'm weeping
my heart has broken, and can never be fully replaced
on the outside I may look fine
but on the inside, I have died.