Country Song Proposals

we love. Imagery helped me develop what’s in my veins other then blood I tried to show that the colors of the flag are in my veins because I am Albanian. Rhyme helped me show a lot because it showed the truth about what Albanian would do for their country. Rhyme scheme also helped me but some

To all teachers, I look forward to your class When I come to school. You 're an awesome teacher; I think you 're very cool. You 're smart and fair and friendly; You 're helping all of us. And if I got to grade you, From me you 'd get A+! To all friends, Friendship is one of life 's greatest treasures. Friends that are loyal are always there to make you laugh when you are down, they are not afraid to help you avoid mistakes and they look out for your best interest. This kind of friend can be hard

It 's not quite a mystery From the moment I saw you across the room, I was hooked by the color that sparkled in your eyes. Even to this day I can pinpoint that as the second I fell in love with you. But you didn 't know I existed, and I didn 't know how to make you see me. I 'm the one who 's insecure After all, how could a girl like you ever like someone of my characteristics? I don 't exactly excel at anything. I 'm just the girl in the corner, the one who exists only in the shadows of people

I remember that day when I moved into that town. It was a fresh and clear day. The birds were singing and the sun was shining all over. I had unpacked and had decided to explore around the place. I went through the shops and the park, and there nothing interested me. I don’t know why but, nothing was interesting. I had walked around and I was pretty sure that I had seen something shimmering in the sunlight, but when I looked closer, it was gone. Now, I will tell you how I became this: a ghost. Over

It was hot. So hot, that sweat caused clothes clung to all skin it came into contact with. This sweat was dripping off her as if it was forced water cascading from a small opening at the top of the head of a statue standing in the center of a fountain. However, it wasn’t a statue standing in the center of a fountain, but a small child on her knees leaning up against a wall. If this was not the worst bed bell dream a child receive as a gift, then the horror that came next to mind was told true.

In a small town about twenty miles out of San Francisco, there lived a girl named Megan. Megan was just an ordinary 16-year-old. She was the only child of Debby and Max Watson. She had a boyfriend named Duke, who she thought was the sweetest guy ever to exist. Megan and her mother, Debby, shared a special bond that no one else had, not even her and her boyfriend. Megan and her mother looked significantly alike. Megan and her mother both had beige blonde hair with light blue-green eyes. They were

I reluctantly took a step back as I stared at the commodious bleach white building towering above me. I have not been here for years and I instantly feel my stomach erupt in butterflies. Today was the first day of my volunteering program at the University of Florida. I stand outside in the clammy incalescence Florida weather dredging to go inside the enormous superstructure that reads HOSPITAL in big red letters. My first impulse is to turn around and whisk back home, but all I can hear is my mother’s

It began during the summer. There was an average height young lady, Noel. She was too afraid to show her true self; afraid that people will make fun of her. At this moment, her favorite thing to do was chatting with people because only on social media will she have the courage to show her true self. Like any average 16 year old, Noel longed for the perfect guy. Ever since she was little; reading about true love, and hearing about true love. It gave her hope that one day she’ll find someone just like

It has been long enough and the fury has subsided enough and when I think of you I no longer cry out in my head that nothing is as it should be. Nothing is, of course, as it should be, but that is something that we live with now. We accept things. We rearrange. We pull the couch over the stain on the rug and go about our days like nothing happened. We go about our lives like nothing happened. And what is heartache but the refusal to do that? The worry that accepting it will make it not count anymore

I looked at Lyon laying in the bed. I knew that this was Lyon, because everyone told me so. But the boy before me with the tubes running into his nose, and the translucent skin was not the boy I knew. My Lyon was robust, overweight vibrantly healthy and possessed of a spirit that would cause him to get up from his chair and dance across the room even if he was alone. The boy before me could barely breathe. His body was nearly lost in the sheets of the bed and he didn 't move. He sucked in air through