The truth about Vigan

Lots of you out there

The ones who don’t have to sit with him

To listen to him

To sit with him

To eat with him

To embark on a new school life with him

To live with him, to live with a Vigan

And I’m here to depict my new life with a gamer

A gamer like Vigan.

In the lunch room

He would still from this day

Stare at my food with disgust

And make a small ughhhh like a moaning deer after he’s been shot

And his annoyance would grow in profusion

And he would flap his arm like a flying bird just to annoy me

And would pilfer my food when I leave his presence.

I would have to be conscientious about sitting with him in class

Or I would end up listening to hours and hours about his mutiny

In Medal of Honor

Or talk about collecting stupid colourful hats in Team Fortress two

And rankle me in many ways

Or I will be audacious to sit with him and see if one day he would talk about life

Vigan is a gamer

A gamer

 who can be so prudent at maths

A gamer

Witch can be slovenly when it comes to talking

A gamer

Who will never have a serene manner when it comes to games

A gamer

Crazy

Cookoo

Childish

Like a madman from Tall Tale heart

A gamer

Who turned out to be my friend

(this poem was accepted by the gamer himself)

Th’ Biography of a boy

None like any other

Staring, Standing on Thomsen hill

Wind blowing on his face with the force of a tornado

Watching

The claps, the bangs, the crash

Of the football game below

Thinking

Waiting for a sign

A sign of goodbye

Family

The ones who left him alone in the dark

Brother

The one who brought him light.

School

Crashing, falling, failing

But only one survives                                                                            

The one when his reading skill’s combine

English.

Catcher and the Rye

Where the words have secrets

Secrets that might open the book

And tell its true meaning

About the Boy

And his life

Living with a pig named Ackley.

Going to the movies, sitting, chewing popcorn one by one- Imagery

Fencing, clanking swords all around you- Imagery

Living the life of a 16 year old teenager

Inside a mental institution.

The Boy Who Saved Baseball

 the Boy Who Saved Baseball by John.H Ritter was written for fans of baseball, and to people who hate it, like me. When I had to choose a book, I was trying to find the easiest and the shortest book I could find, and The Boy Who Saved Baseball caught my eye. After I signed out the book, I realized that it was only about baseball. At first I thought the story would be boring, tiring, and that I wouldn’t understand anything about the book. When I started to read, the book wasn’t only about baseball after all. It had lots of action and mystery about what’s going to happen next after each paragraph. The main idea of the story is that the whole towns fate is rested in the hands of a small baseball team called the Wildcats.

The plot of the story is really easy to follow. The story is about Tom Gallagher (the protagonist of the story) and how it’s up to him, and his small team of baseball players. They have to spend several days training with one of the most famous baseball hitter, to hopefully win the small league baseball game and save his town from being torn down by the developers, and also find a mysterious boy along the book. The protagonist of the story, Tom Gallagher is the captain of the Wildcat’s team and the nicest of them all, but he is also the shyest and he doesn’t speak much throughout the story.

The protagonist mostly spends his time writing in his journal, and thinking about the mountains, the people, and how good life is instead of speaking to everyone. The narrator expresses the characters feelings towards what Tom thinks or what Tom writes and sketches, not by expressing him by his verbal tone, as shown in the following example. “You sure are quiet.” Tom nodded. “That’s what everybody says.” “What are you thinking?” “I don’t know.” Tom was the happiest when he could sit silent, be the observer, the notice of small details, the sketcher. (61). in only 3 sentences, the Narrator could describe us perfectly of how the character feels in his daily life. Another important character in the book is Cruz De La Cruz (the mysterious boy I was talking about earlier.) Cruz came horse riding from a far off town until he came to Dilltown to play in the legendary Lucky Strike Field, in where many famous players came to play ball. Cruz’s relationship in the book was to teach the players to believe in themselves. Before Cruz came, they thought they were dead, but then he thought them valuable lessons that can be used in their lives to help them win the game.

The message that the author is trying to give throughout the book is to never give up. He doesn’t really show it in the context, but you can realize it while you’re reading it. For example. Tom starts out all depressed and thinks his team will lose and everyone would blame him for it, but then he starts to realize how much effort his team is putting in their training, and how the players starts to hit the balls more harder and faster, this sight made Tom start to believe that there is a possibility of winning. He says how kids our age should start working hard to get to new heights.

In my opinion I would give this book a seven out of ten, because in some parts of the story the author should give you suspense and make you want to turn the page around and see what’s happens next, but sometimes you would already suspect that would happen, and it would be kind of boring to read. But despite those minimal problems, the book is written with great detail and it’s a book in which everyone can enjoy.

 

My Mother

Is the sniper who watches her victims.

My mother is the doctor

 The god of the house, the leader, the cook, the hero, the firefighter

She is the teacher of the house

The wizard, the sage.

She would be the goose that travels around the world

Exploring new places in her big beautiful feathers.

She would be the dark green in the mood ring.

And be the meteor witch crashes the house when she is ignored

Or be an atomic bomb when people don’t do what she asks.

My mother would be a solitary rock when we all leave the house

Turning her into Bill Gates when she goes to work

Or she would be the Picasso when ideas hit’s her mind

And draw the monalisa on her canvas.

My mother would be the priest, the prayer, a sister.

That would light up candles in the church.

You were the statue of judgement

You knew the right from wrong,

The good and the evil,

And always find the responsible.

Because of you. I have learnt to be the father who would take care of his children.

Because of you. I have learnt valuable lessons; witch will be my guide to the future.

Because of you.  I now know who to trust, and who to avoid.

Because of you. I have my own map, to guide to places I want to go.

Because of you. I am the sound of music

Because of you. I am who I am.

Because of you. I wouldn’t know who to write about.