| Melody's Favorites |
| Melody's Favorite "I Hate It" (poem) By Sara Fincham - West Virginia |
| Melody's Favorites "Liberation" (artwork) By Joanna Barnum - New York |
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| Melody's Favorites "Metamorphosis" (poem) By Anthony Lucas - Pennyslvania |
| There's something about your first That keeps you clinging on You live in the past Even when they're gone You said you wanted love And we made it You said it was special And you'd save it You said you loved me And no one could change it But you didn't even fight And I hate it It was fine between you and me And then we let it out Our secret wasn't accepted I'd never heard you shout Your mom wanted you to be normal You tried to be She told you to love whoever you want As long as it wasn't me You said you wanted love And we made it You said it was special And you'd save it You said you loved me And no one could change it But you didn't even fight And I hate it Your mom and my mom They formed an alliance They couldn't keep us apart I fought in defiance You just stood there Pleading sorryness with your tears She forced you to marry Do you think you'll learn to love him over the years They saw us together And how could he not know You gave me one final hug And you didn't wanna let go You said you wanted love And we made it You said it was special And you'd save it You said you loved me An no one could change it But you didn't even fight And I hate it |
| Silent eyes whisper frozen words into ears illusions have teared. A father, not a dad lefts his voice, as he has lifted his hands never to hold or to strike but makes puppets of nothing. Dressed in the finest fasions and most scared suspicious, a voice was released, but words were not spoken. A PULLING, PUSHING, BURGNING, TACKLE, of words and emotions fight to become known. A sudden silence. Silence. Silence. Silence. Doors were flung open, skeletons released, and pink paint scattered and stained. Walking arms became solid and stale, almost lifeless, and regretful. His hands frozen. The source of pain became sacrificed. A few minutes of torture quickly became gratifying, all of this a by-product of divine intervention, a father challenged to be a dad. A boy challenged to be a man. An isolated well dressed suspicious boy becomes praise worthy. His burden lifted. His happiness on the tip of his lips. His freedom rolls down the back of his throat, his heart becomes numb, and he smiles. His words thrown up into fireworks. A boy became a man. |
| 2003 KarMel Scholarship Entry |
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