The Stream

*Author's Note*

This wasn't a journal entry it was simply a counter to my attempt of a poem "Death". This just came to me as I wrote.

Water slowly rushes through the groups of cattails and sloshes along the banks. Fish swim through the crystal clear water swiftly. The small pebbles flow gently with the current. The sound of a stone being tossed in, disrupting the gentle sway of the water. The ripples move through out the patch of water where the stone plummeted while the fish scatter, greatly frightened at the possibility of death.
Down the stream even more, the frogs rest upon lily pads of many different sizes. The ribbit of the frogs bring an enchanting theme to the atmosphere. The amazing atmosphere of the stream being untouched by humans, of no buildings, of just peace.

Death

*Author's Note*

This is my first poem so bear with me. I find that I'm better at depressing pieces and I've never attempted a poem so why not kill two birds with one stone? The poem is just about desperation and hopelessness. It truly came out of no where.

The feeling of something eating at your soul,
At your heart.
The unforgiving truth,
The want of life,
Of having it back.
The despair,
The fear,
The realization that life is unfair.
The anger,
The sadness,
The need of vengeance.
The attempt of life once again,
The bitter taste of defeat,
The dreams of life then.
The final days,
The final hours,
The final wish to give up,
The death.

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