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Fearful Mind

A mind of mayhem
Twisted and tangled
Unsure of the way out
Looks to the North, to the South
To the Sea, to the Sky
And perceives every angle in rich, unadulterated fear.

Twisted Visions

Art and poetry by Austin (Arrow)
Poem title- A Mind of Mayhem
Art title 1- Fearful Mind
Art title 2- Twisted Visions
03-02-07/2:49AM EST

Rose by Austin of Sundrip Journals

Every rose has its thorn but sunflowers give beauty unconditionally.

Mama says that just because she loves sunflowers but I like roses too. I can spot them a mile away. I spot them in commercials, on products in the store, on billboards and anywhere else. We found some in the store yesterday.

Yesterday we mailed out cards to friends. That was really fun. Mama says we can do that more often if we want to so she got some stamps for us. We mailed one to Keepers and to Beauty and to our friend JAGA too. I can't wait for them to get their card. That was fun.

And we went to get Chinese food the other day but that time it wasn't such a great day. The people rushed us out of there but I still liked the squid and the crab legs and shrimp. They have all kinds of seafood. And they have great sweets too. They have espresso cake and chess pie and pineapple cake and they even have rice crispy treats. I hope we go there again. I like the crab legs. Blossom wouldn't eat the frog legs because she says she likes frogs too much. I like them too but I try not to think about them hopping around when I'm eating them.

So this is the rose I made for Mama. I suppose Blossom will see it too but she might not like it because it doesn't look perfect. She will see only what I did wrong on the picture and then I'll just feel stupid so I might not show it to her at all. How come someone can only see a flaw stand out from something that might have other stuff than mistakes to offer? I don't understand it.



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If I could get over this I’d jump as high as a mountain, up and over
If I could write it out of me, write a few lines and whisk away the pain
I’d smear ink, I’d chicken scratch years of scorn and mocked name calling
And I’d get over it.
If I could stand up and walk away
If I could just walk away I’d do so in a heart beat
But right now my heart beats to one slow tune
The sound of your voice telling me how much my pain burdens you.

Milwaukee, age 12
inside Morton's Pride
November 25th, 2006


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Tiny Bowl Cramped Fish

Is there a space big enough to contain my every worry or fear? Is there a container large enough to hold dreams with endless possibilities? Will there be a waterproof bowl that will count my tears as they fill, be careful to not let them overflow. Will there ever be a container, a house, a home to hold all of this together and still let me breathe a sigh of relief?


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A person in need of healing stands on the face of a broken clock knowing it is past time to heal, waiting is no longer an option.Copyright 2006 @ Sundrip Journals All rights reserved

The pocket watch is an old tarnished thing I've had for years but I keep it around because even time hasn't erased the symbolism. I no longer put in fresh batteries so it is frozen at exactly 10:30PM and 42 seconds. Although the arms have stopped moving and the watch mechanics have seized in place my pace towards healing has neither slowed nor come to a halt.

Version Two

My Time To Heal by F. Magdalene Austin

Copyright @ Sundrip Journals All rights reserved

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