Fruitbrellas
There is nothing like paradise. The sun shining down as you lounge on a chair with the tropics. And, of course, no one can forget the quintessential drink with the mini umbrella.
However, these mini umbrellas in your drink could lead to the very destruction of this paradise around you.
My product is an edible mini umbrella made of fruit strips to replace the wood and plastic of currently eco-harmful ones. This product is not meant to work alone but would instead act as a launch board toward more eco-friendliness in resorts. This could be an essential step in reducing the amount of plastic in the ocean.
City of Death
Paris, oh Paris
The city of Love
the city of Lights
Tell me your story
All blood and gory
Paris, oh Paris
Share your secrets
beheaded sleepless
dark below your
gilded domes
the thronged catacombs
Paris, oh Paris
Viking treasures
Stolen far away
Never heard in
the light of day
Paris, oh Paris
whisper to me
let me see
in the aurora
your plethora
of unknown hidden
Paris, oh Paris
I don't need
to look far
to find your
savagery
Paris, Oh Paris
City of Love
City of Lights
Leave nothing out
Paris, Oh Paris
The City of Death
Peace Week- 10/20
Stand together! Stand with pride!
This is peace! we are peace!
Walking, talking, dreaming, drawing
Standing tall and proud here today
But that feeling is gnawing
For us to keep calling
Peace is still skies above
And we are still grounded
So set free those doves
And head upward bound
Stand with pride! Stand together!
One person alone does nothing.
Everyone, everyone together
Can be the change in everything.
Peace is not one week
It will be done when
War is an antique
Thwarted time and again
My friends, reach for peace
And if we grab it
Grasp it, never release
For peace, never quit
The History of a City
Paris, oh Paris
The city of Love
the city of Lights
Tell me your story
All blood and gory
Paris, oh Paris
Share your secrets
beheaded sleepless
dark below your
gilded domes
the thronged catacombs
Paris, oh Paris
Viking treasures
Stolen far away
Never heard in
the light of day
Paris, oh Paris
whisper to me
let me see
in the aurora
your plethora
of unknown hidden
Paris, oh Paris
I don't need
to look far
to find your
savagery
Paris, Oh Paris
City of Love
City of Lights
Leave nothing out
Paris, Oh Paris
The City of Death
"What now, Gareth?!" she brushed off her muddy jeans. Her dark brown locks were gnarled and her face was angry.
"I don't know," he yelped, trying to back away.
"you look beautiful," he said as he undid his tie. She seemed to have thrown her heel across the room and her dress had been torn.
Her eyes were puffy and red, and she sighed, "I'm done, so what now, Gareth."
Oh, Icarus
Oh, Icarus
you flew far too close
Oh Icarus
why, oh why
didn't you learn
You did it once
you did it again
Once was great
then you tried fate
Oh, Icarus
I cannot
cry for you
you made your choice
now you lie in
the ocean blue
The Definition
The truth is love is undefinable. You love your family and your friends and your pets. You love romantically too. People say they are different types of love, but I don't believe so. Love is undefinable because it is the definition. It is the name you put to feelings of undying loyalty and trust. You can't stop loving people. Once you feel it, it's there for good. You can stop liking people or stop agreeing with them, but once you love them, it's permanent. I believe you have different relationships with different people, but the feeling underneath is the same.
#Riley_45
Castor, Virginia, USA
There was one city, seven territories, and twenty-two neighborhoods. A city, a world of its own, comprised of 389,717 people. Everyone lived by different laws, but we all followed the same two. You don’t ask questions. You don’t give answers. That is our reality.
There was a time it wasn't like that; A time before my family immigrated. You see, it all started in the mid-1700s. After another bloody war between the Scots and the English, a bunch of Scots immigrated to America. They settled in the colonies and even created some of their own. One such colony became known as New Aberdeen. Not long afterward, some Dutch moved next door and founded First Ward. Some more people would come into the area, but Castor was not a city until the 1850s. Then, all of a sudden, Russians, Hungarians, Greeks, Italians, Englishmen, Welsh, and all sorts of Hispanics moved into the area.
See, but these weren't normal people. They all seemed a little different. The Scottish could heal just about anybody, and the Hungarians seemed to be nocturnal and had an odd amount of murderers or hospital workers. They were the nicest people though, always doing blood drives.
It was a haven for magical creatures and people. People say magic used to hum in the air. There were rivalries between groups over the years, but it never involved the persecution of magic.
Then, my grandfather came to town.
He was a Welshman who came to live with his second cousin. No one even took notice as he arrived from Ellis Island up north.
Twenty years later, he ran the streets. His second in command was mayor. His best friend was the chief of police. Through fear, the city was his. People stopped asking the question. The idiots who still asked? They never got answers.
You think the Italian Mafia was a story? You haven't heard anything yet.
Gone, Gone, Gone
Gone Gone Gone
Are the days where
the leaves danced
Gone Gone Gone
and the world
is quiet
Dead and silent
If only Spring
could come
Then the world
would unquiet
But happy days are
gone gone gone
and the world
is silent
My dancing
green companions
have left so have
my chattery friends
high in the trees
So, please
don’t leave me
as well
It is poison
the silence
You have left me
Summer
but hurry
to return
or the silence
will take me
and like you
I will be
gone gone gone
Broken Crown
Her hair had once been a thick and luscious black. Now, the matted blood stained it red. She had always had pale skin, but now, it was pallid. Even with her eyes closed, it was impossible to believe she still belonged to this world.
People had once described him as calm and self-controlled. Now, his blood boiled. His passion had given way to anger. Even in the dark of the cell, one could see his hatred in his eyes and his fists.
His father had died a hero.
His lessons of peace died with him.
His sister had died a victim.
His love had died with her.
All that was left was ice. Ice, so cold, it burned anyone who came near him. Ice that he used as sustenance to keep him alive.
Ice, so cold, it lit a fire as he burnt down his jailers, his conquerors. It destroyed their crown and built him a throne.
As the sun fell over the horizon, his people's prayers echoed through the silence.
Once, they had hoped for him, the shining star of the future, their hero. Now, they begged him gone.
The broken kingdom united under a broken crown.
It was twistedly poetic.