Ya so I am really board so I am going to type something out of my book, and maybe one of my poems, but not my best poem just in case it really is good and someone decides to steal it.

           Okay this is one of my new poems it is called

                    The Blood of my Eyes

Everything is silent and dead                                                            

All around the scent of decay seems to linger     

It crawls through my nose then into my head

Suddenly I collaps with agonizing pain                                                  

I fall to my knees with a cry                                                     

Clawing at my eyes to get to my brain

Something had invaded my mind                                                       

To plunder my thoughts                                                                      

I let out a horrid screem because now I am blind

             Like I said, that is one that I do not consider my best poem, as a matter of fact, I am not very good at wrighting poems at all. I fell I am much better at wrighting stories and books. So here is a sample of one of my stories...actually it is all I have so far of it. But by the time I am finnished it will only be a sample. So if anyone at all ever reads any of this please leave me a comment about it, I dont care if you think it will hurt my feelings or whatever just tell me if you like it or not and why.

                A Knock on my Window

     Why I was board was just as much  mystery as how to cure my boardom. It seemed fate had dashed all of my hopes of reaching a=someone on hte phone, and past report card grades had ruled out watching T.V., or playing computer. So that left me with absolutly nothing to do except write.

     I picked up my pen and began to not only write my thoughts but feel them leave and mark on every line of the page. The world around me seemed to fade away and all that existed was myself and the pages of my journal that were beginning to fill and overflow with ink from my pen.

     Then with no warning at all I heard a searies of loud rapid pangs on the window across my writeing desk, pangs  that shatterd my consintration and brought me tumbeling back to the present. Just my imagination I told myself, and continued working. But the noise came again, more urgent this time, "I couldn't have imagiand that." I mumbled to myself as I stood.

     I made the short journy over to the lacked windo with quiet caution, stepping over and around te objects that litterd the floor of my room. Who gose around knocking on windows at 11:00 o'clock p.m.?

     The floor vient numbed my feet with cold air as I stood infrount of the darkend glass, giveing it my best effort to look through the glareing reflection cast by the desk light. All I could see was part of the street outside that was lit by te orange glow of the street light. But nothing that could have been around my window, much less been knocking on it.

     I turnd around thinking that I mingt be going crazy, untill another set of rapid knocks sounded from behind me, causeing my heart to jump into my throte and skip a beat.

    I turnd to see who it was that had scared me so cleverly, but was stopped in mid-turn by a painfull contact between my little tow and the bet post. I stiffled a cry, and knelt to grip my foot in agonie, listening to what sounded like muffeld laughter from outside the window.

               That is just a sample of it, I thought about typeing all of what I have written so far but that would take to long, and if I make this entrie to long no one is going to want to read it, and I would really like for someone to read it and tell me how boaring it is.