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Nonfiction
#4441voted by our readers
By CupcakeSaffy PLATINUM
Cochrane, Other

This poem may suggest it is about missing people or regretting experiences, but I think if look deeper and really analyze it, you can see its main premise is feeling empty when the...
CupcakeSaffy PLATINUM, Cochrane, Other
20 articles 0 photos 28 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take but by the moments that take our breath away."


PageWibbenmeyer BRONZE, Olney, Illinois
1 article 0 photos 0 comments
#4443 Nonfiction
By Jessica Song BRONZE
Dardenne Prairie, Missouri
Jessica Song BRONZE, Dardenne Prairie, Missouri
1 article 0 photos 0 comments
Squeakman BRONZE, Winslow, Maine
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments
#4445 Nonfiction
Israology BRONZE, Ramsey, Minnesota
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
You had a purpose before anyone had an opinion.

#4446 Nonfiction
1commcody7 BRONZE, Palm Bay, Florida
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments
#4447 Nonfiction
By Ricky Brucker BRONZE
Lancaster, Ohio
Ricky Brucker BRONZE, Lancaster, Ohio
1 article 0 photos 0 comments
#4448 Nonfiction
Danealle SILVER, Wheeling, Illinois
7 articles 0 photos 119 comments

Favorite Quote:
Anything is possible with a smile and goal in mind.

#4449 Nonfiction
By MagicMan20 SILVER
Peachtree City, Georgia
MagicMan20 SILVER, Peachtree City, Georgia
5 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
Ray, people will come Ray. They'll come to Iowa for reasons they can't even fathom. They'll turn up your driveway not knowing for sure why they're doing it. They'll arrive at your door as innocent as children, longing for the past. Of course, we won't mind if you look around, you'll say. It's only $20 per person. They'll pass over the money without even thinking about it: for it is money they have and peace they lack. And they'll walk out to the bleachers; sit in shirtsleeves on a perfect afternoon. They'll find they have reserved seats somewhere along one of the baselines, where they sat when they were children and cheered their heroes. And they'll watch the game and it'll be as if they dipped themselves in magic waters. The memories will be so thick they'll have to brush them away from their faces. People will come Ray. The one constant through all the years, Ray, has been baseball. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It has been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. This field, this game: it's a part of our past, Ray. It reminds of us of all that once was good and it could be again. Oh... people will come Ray. People will most definitely come.

#4450 Nonfiction
By Anonymous