The-Creative-Writer

“I hope you’re ready, Hinata; you’re about to get some real training!” Anko Mitarashi said as she stood in front of Hinata Hyuga in the middle of a more secluded training ground than others in the village. “Um…what kind of training, exactly?” Hinata asked, clearly nervous about being with one of the more outgoing and brutally honest people she’s ever known. “Listen up, ‘cause I’m only gonna say this once! I’ve been tasked with a mission; to toughen you up!” Anko said as she raised her fist in the air. Hinata gulped as she asked, “And h…how do you plan t–” “I’m gonna beat some confidence into you!” “A…Actually, I appreciate the concern, but I think I’m doing just fine,” Hinata said with a nervous laugh, unnerved by Anko’s use of the word “beat.” “Oh, ninja training’s only half the story; there’s other areas of your life I’m gonna be focusing on.” “O…Oh? What did you have in mind?” “First, we’re gonna get rid of that stutter,” Anko said with a grin. “It’s cute, but if you keep

It feels like you arrived only the day before, When you entered my life through that mystery train door, You saw it as a mistake, although I saw it as fate, And ever since we met, oh, the secrets I've kept, With nobody to tell, save for a seashell, A gift from a hand I'd liked to have held, A reminder of the past; of a dream unrealized, Of a hope that was dashed, but still trapped in my mind, And the ocean I hear, when that shell's held to my ear, Each time, it reminds me of you, my most dear, My heart, out at sea; alone, bittersweet; Surrounded by salt, yet love to the deep - Isabelle "Good morning, everyone!" Isabelle exclaimed cheerfully over the loudspeaker. "Right now, the time is 8:33 am, Thursday. I'd just like to remind you all that this Saturday is the Cherry Blossom Festival! Picnicking amid the cherry blossoms, swirling in the breeze... It's the perfect way to ring in the spring! Feel free to grab your own seasonal kimono and join us for the special occasion!" Then

A garden is a window to the soul: I plant seeds the way I live life Doubting all promises of likelihood I douse the dirt in flurries of seeds Hoping at least a few will make it Through the spring And ripen to the fall Unbelieving, with little optimism Still I stick my fingers in the earth Sun seeping into shoulders I water both wasteland and weed Watching for the dicots To drizzle my days with green

Reflexive Responsive The self mind The one we Don't need to wind Up Insight Inner mind Subconscious Sensing Neural transmission The mind Restoration Of concept Accept Accredit Announce Succeeding Idea reading Sheer force Of will Remember Realizing Share Make note No longer Remote Emote Intuit Reality Conduit Free to create Coerce Self Universe The Mind Revealing Itself to itself Know how Improve Barrier Remove Ideal Understand This real Hidden land From this We will know When Asked to show Compassion Will know New Old Free Reward To the reckoning We move toward Perfection Is eternal As inner Or external Empathy Control Yet still Not whole It is created In the Soul

"It's three in the morning. What do you want? Who is this man you're bringing here? Who? From where? Never heard of that place. Why are you bringing him to me? One at a time, one at a time. So he said he's a king; I can say I'm a bird, But it won't make me fly. If he's one of your own Who's broken your own laws, You can take care of it yourselves. If you're mad 'cause he said he's a king, Then let your own king deal with him." "Why are you back? Can't you handle your own problems? Why do you want him to die this badly? Can't you do it yourselves As long as you're on your own turf? Oh, so now he's an insurrectionist? Okay, let me talk to him And I'll see what I can do." "I don't know what's going on out there, And I honestly don't care. Is what they're saying true? Did you really say that? I'm not one of your people; I have no idea what they're so afraid of. Should I be? Are you really a king?" "There's nothing in our laws that merits execution. Here, I have a wanted felon With an

Restless running everywhere; I can't settle anywhere. What am I looking for? Where am I going? Doesn't seem to matter As long as I keep moving. Don't bother people; They don't want you around. Don't interrupt; That's bad manners. Don't pester or whine at people; You wouldn't want them bothering you, would you? Everyone's busy; Go play somewhere else. Not belonging anywhere Or to anyone–– If I had a destination Or a companion, Maybe all this travel would mean something; As I do not, It's just more lost wandering. Gotta keep singing to stave off the madness... This world is not my home; I'm just a-passing through. If Heaven's not my home, Then, Lord, what will I do? The angels beckon me From Heaven's open door And I can't feel at home in this world anymore...