Writing That Keeps a Light Flickering

Age 15, Hanover
Monday, March 06, 2017

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Lamp: Include the line, “A light flickered on in the house…” in a poem or story.

Hopes and dreams

A Lamp flickered on in the House—

The House of hopes and dreams.

The hopes of a better Future

Dreams of a world with Peace.

When lit — the Light spreads near and far —

When dim — we cannot see.

Our little Lamp must remain on

For all Eternity.

A Writing Mistake

I was sitting at my desk writing a story. As I was writing this story, a lamp flickered on in the house. Why did the lamp flicker on? Why, because I flicked the switch on. It lit the whole room with a deep yellow, a very soothing color. As I began to conform to the feeling in the room, so did my writing.

My writing became comforting, allowing its arms to open wide to the pen making marks over the paper. Soon pages upon pages emerged, creating a unique story of laughter and happiness. As the night grew deeper, the laughter turned into yelling, and the happiness turned into anger. The pen abused the paper, scratching out bad words and sentences that didn’t belong. Harsh things were said, and no forgiveness was wanted.

Finally the sun rose and the ink dried. The damage that was done was permanently stained. Soon the ink owned up for its mistake and made up for the wrong things said last night. A clean slate was made and was printed out.

The story was mistake-free as if it were perfect from the beginning. Deep in the corner though, there was the draft hidden away, where no light shined. There, the memories of problems that prevented the story from great things lay, remembering what to prevent in the future.

General writing: Trump

Grow up, Mr. Trump

Dear President Trump,

Why, oh, why, do you ban people from entering our free country? It was founded as the land of the free. We’re not free anymore. You’ve made our country sour with the taste of hatred.

You should stay off Twitter for your own good. You’re the president now, so act like it. You need to act like a grown man and not a child. Our country chose you for the betterment of our country, not to yell at companies for dropping your daughter’s clothing line.

You’ve made people think it’s okay to harass Muslims and Mexicans and any other group that you think is inferior. You make people think it’s okay to tell Muslims that they should go back to their country, and you call them terrorists. Our country is dying of hatred and bitterness.

You tell our agencies that they don’t know what they’re talking about, but you are the one who doesn’t know what you’re talking about. You say that our news companies are dishonest, and say that all their articles are fake. You won’t answer questions from news companies because they’re telling the sad truth (that you are our president).

Instead of using civil discourse, you yell over others and call them names such as calling Elizabeth Warren Pocahontas. You make a generation of men and women think it’s okay to act how you’re acting: immature, sexist, racist, rude, self-obsessed and belligerent. You’re a big boy, Mr. Trump, so act like it.