The leaves turn to tell the age,All rights reserved © 2017 Josephine Joyil
From a tender bud,
To a parchment page.
The green blue waters turn frozen grey,
It cries out
To you in pain.
The winds were blowing, it howled your name.
Its prayers were surely,
Not in vain.
The night devours the light of day,
But from the heavens,
Shine forth your rays.
The northeast and the old northwest,All rights reserved © 2017 Josephine Joyil
Together formed the northern nest.
United by the railroad routes,
The northern states would start to sprout.
Caused a surge in population.
High birth rates and immigration,
Also helped to build the nation.
Towns would grow past 1820,
From tiny town to cities plenty.
A faster pace in railroad tracks,
Made people settle down in packs.
So slums would flood in urban North,
When workers came in rushing forth.
Hence it can be no surprise,
That living conditions did not rise.
Sayge: Sayge is the main protagonist of the play. She is a nine year old girl with a stubborn personality. She values the opinion of her peers and believes that these opinions are meant to be the foundation of her social status and a reflection of her personality. Her character develops and grows throughout the play as she learns new things about life through experiences.
Skeemz: Skeemz is Sayge’s imaginary friend. He is aware that his sole purpose is to get Sayge though the ups and downs of her childhood. He believes that it is important to let children figure out solutions to their own problems. He is normally the ‘listener’ who sits and listens to Sayge when she talks about the problems she faces in life. He often says things in a sarcastic tone. For the purpose of the play, he is the comedic relief.
Freddie: Freddie is the main antagonist of the play. She is the popular girl who everyone obeys for no apparent reason. She is meant to symbolise social norms that, like her, are followed by society for no apparent reason.
Mrs.Pesonen: A teacher.
Mr.Baker: The principal
Skeemz is sitting on the couch with his feet on the coffee table. He is reading a book intently.
Sayge: We have a problem.
Skeemz: (Still looking in the book. Line is delivered in a playful tone, but character remains with a straight face.) It’s about time someone spoke up! This household is going through a cookie famine!
(Sayge looks at Skeemz mildly irritated)
Sayge: That’s not what I meant.
Skeemz: Ah… you’re referring to our lemonade drought?
(Sayge grows increasingly irritated.)
Sayge: What?… You can’t just make up words!
Skeemz: (Looks up momentarily to deliver the line. Makes a mocking “thinking face” with his fingers rubbing his chin as if in deep thought) Both lemonade and drought are real words.
Sayge: Forget the stupid lemonade drought! That’s not the problem.
Skeemz: (Returning his attention to his book. Mainly to himself. ) Isn’t it though?
Sayge: (Continues as if uninterrupted): Freddie did something mean today…
Skeemz:(Still focuses attention on the book. Interrupts Sayge): Did she accuse you of causing the cookie famine? I mean, that’s what I’m going with.
Sayge: No, she told me that I have to give her my lunch money because she’s older than me.
Skeemz: Did you do it?
Sayge: (Indignantly) No! I told her to buy her own lunch. Then she told me that she’ll get me into trouble.
Skeemz: What did you say to that.
Sayge: I told her that I’m not afraid of her. (Pause momentarily) Then she said she is going to tell everyone to not talk to me.
Skeemz: (Sarcastic) We don’t want that now do we?
Sayge: (With innocent sincerity) Exactly, but if I just give her my lunch money, I’d just be doing what she wants me to do.
Skeemz: Yeah, that’s what you’ll be doing.
Sayge: Maybe if I just give her my lunch money, I wouldn’t get into trouble. I mean all of her friends do that. Maybe she’ll be my friend if I give her my money. I mean being nice to everyone is how everyone gets friends right?
Skeemz: (Looks up for the first time.) What have I to do with the sacredness of traditions, if I live wholly from within?
Skeemz: (Places a bookmark between the pages of the book he was reading and neatly puts it down on the coffee table.) It is a quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson. I believe I read it in A Nonconformist. One of Emerson’s well known pieces.
Sayge: How is my problem related to what Emerson has to say?
Skeemz: (To himself) Everything is related to what Emerson has to say. (Back to Sayge) My point is, it is important for you listen to yourself and ‘live wholly from within’. You need to ask yourself if it’s worth it to be friends with Freddie.
Sayge: But if I don’t do what everyone else does, then I won’t be like everyone else. I’ll be considered…different…like a freak…or a…
Skeemz:( Still looking into the book.) A dictionary.
Sayge: Exactly. ( Realizes she did not understand the analogy) What?
Skeemz: (Skeemz picks up the book and holds it in his hand with the cover facing Sayge. The book is a dictionary.) It is a book that can’t be classified into a genre. It lacks a plot and setting, but it makes up for that with its rich vocabulary. (Briefly looks at the dictionary in approval as he delivers the previous line. Then looks up at Sayge to deliver the next line) Nobody wants to read it, but everybody needs it at some point. The dictionary knows what it is. It would lose its purposes if it had a plot or setting. It listened to itself and lived wholly from within.
Sayge: But I don’t want to be the book that no one wants to read.
Skeemz: (Disappointed.) Really? That’s all you got from all of that? (To himself.)Kids these days. (Back to Sayge) Well then, it’s a good thing you are not a book my friend.
Sayge: But you just said I’m a dictionary.
Skeemz: Are you a dictionary?
Sayge: (Confused, does not understand what Skeemz is trying to say) No?
Skeemz: (Teasing. Starts to open the dictionary to the marked page.) Are you sure about that?
Sayge: (Still confused.) Yes? (Momentary pause. Then with more certainty) Yes.
Skeemz: What if I told you that you are a dictionary?
Sayge: (Stubborn) Well… you’re wrong.
Skeemz: (Insistent) No, I think you are a dictionary. There’s no doubt about that.
Sayge: (Frustrated) I’m not a dictionary, because I said I’m not a dictionary.
Skeemz: (Still primarily focused on reading the dictionary.) What if Freddie said you are a dictionary?
Sayge: She doesn’t decide what I am. I do.
(Sayge is annoyed. Skeemz looks at Sayge and raises his eyebrows. Sayge realizes what Skeemz was trying to say.)
Sayge: So I’m not a dictionary?
Skeemz: I don’t know kid, you tell me.
(Skeemz flips to the next page in the dictionary.)
It is lunchtime and Sayge is waiting in line to get a cookie. Freddie is standing in front of Sayge. She turns around.
Freddie: (Exaggerated friendliness) Hey Sayge.
Sayge:(Briefly glances up) Hello Freddie.
(Freddie pauses for a moment. There is a brief look of distaste on her face.)
Freddie: Listen, I forgot my lunch money, so do you mind stealing me a cookie?
Sayge: I’m not going to steal anything Freddie.
Freddie: Come on Sayge, how about you quit being a good girl for once.
Sayge: (Looks up at Freddie. There is a look of mocked hospitality on her face.) How about you go ahead and get your own cookie?
Freddie: (Starts an argument) Sayge…
Sayge:(Cuts off Freddie) Freddie
(Sayge continues to look Freddie in the eyes to prove she is not scared of Freddie. Freddie turns around.)
The line progressively moves forward. When Freddie and Sayge got to the cookie station, Freddie takes a cookie and slips it in her coat. Sayge sees her doing this but does not say anything. Freddie got caught by Mrs. Pesonen.
Mrs. Pesonen: Freddie, I sure hope you are planning on paying for that cookie.
Freddie: (Smiles artificially) Don’t worry Mrs. Pesonen, Sayge said she’ll pay the lunch lady back.
(Sayge was standing behind Freddie. She overheard the conversation.)
Sayge: (Slight panic) Sayge said no such thing.
Freddie: Yeah you did, you said I can go ahead and get a cookie.
Sayge:(Emphasis on the words that are italicized) I said you can go ahead and get yourself a cookie…as in purchase one…with money.
Freddie:(Still artificially smiling) I did, with your money.
Sayge:(Stubborn) I’m not paying for that.
(Sayge looks at Mrs. Pesonen for help.)
Mrs. Pesonen: (Looks at telltale signs of lying on Sayge’s and Freddie’s faces.) How about I escort you two to the principal’s office?
Sayge and Freddie are sitting on opposite sides of the bench outside the principal’s office. Skeemz casually walks by whistling a cheerful tune.
Sayge: (Surprised to see Skeemz at school)What are you doing here?
Skeemz: It’s never too late to get an education…
Sayge: No really, Skeemz, what are you doing here?
Skeemz: Sayge the real question is: What are you doing here?
Sayge: I got into trouble.
Skeemz: Did they blame you for causing the cookie famine?
Skeemz: (Baffled because he remembers the aforementioned ‘cookie famine’) Seriously, because I was just joking about that…
Skeemz gets interrupted when Sayge gets a text message from Freddie.
Sayge: (Reads the message out loud.) You haven’t met me if you think the truth will set you free. (Looks at Freddie) What’s that supposed to mean?
Freddie: You’re talking to yourself, ya little freak. You don’t think that I’ll spill the beans about Skeemz? What, are you making up friends now because no one in the real world wants to talk to you?
Sayge: What are you saying?
Freddie: If you say one word about the cookies, I will make sure that everyone knows you’re a freak.
Skeemz: (Raises his eyebrows. Put emphasis on the lines that are italicized) Wow. That is one angry little girl.
Sayge: (Filled with rage, says the first thing that comes to mind. To Freddie) Wow, you are one angry little girl.
Skeemz looks at Sayge incredulously.
(Freddie starts to hiss at Sayge)
Skeemz: (To Sayge) Act like you’re not listening. It will drive her insane.
Sayge looks straight ahead, with a slight smirk on her face
Skeemz starts to laugh at Freddie’s tantrum.
Mrs. Pesonen walks out of the Principal’ office.
Mrs. Pesonen: (To Sayge and Freddie) Mr. Baker would like to see you two.
Freddie, Sayge and Skeemz walk out of the principal’s office. The three of them walk towards the same class. A few feet away from the door, Freddie stops Sayge and Skeemz stops beside Sayge.
Freddie: (Hisses) Lunch time detention for the next three days. You’ll pay for that.
Sayge: (Smirk) I’m not scared of you. You’re just one angry little girl.
Freddie: You have no idea what I’m capable of. When I’m done with you, you’re going to wish no one knew your name.
Sayge: (Trying to get a good comeback.)Joke’s on you, I don’t even have a name.
Sayge realizes that what she said was silly. She pauses for a moment, trying to fix what she just said, then decides against it and walks away. Skeemz follows.
Skeemz: (To Sayge): (Disappointed)‘Jokes on you, I don’t even have a name?’ Come on kid, you could do better than that.
Sayge:(Embarrassed) I know, just keep walking.
Sayge and Skeemz are at home.
Sayge:(Frantic) Skeemz, we have a problem.
Skeemz: What happened?
Sayge: Freddie just posted a video of me talking to you.
Skeemz: (Confused)But no one else can see me.
Sayge: Exactly! It looks like I’m talking to a wall. Everyone will think I’m a wierd. No one wants to talk to the ‘weird one’ What am I going to do?
Skeemz: Calm down, it’s not a big deal.
Sayge: This is serious. People will think I’m a freak. No one will talk to me.
Skeemz: So what? You’re in the fourth grade. Do you really think you’ll spend the rest of your life surrounded by the kids from your elementary school? In a few years, none of these people will matter. They will all go away. You need to learn how to be friends with the most important person in your life.
Sayge: (Snapped)And who’s that? You?
Skeemz: (Line is delivered in a mocked offended voice.)I am offended by your tone young lady. (Returns back to serious tone) No it’s you. One of these days, I’ll have to go away, Then it will only be you kid. If you keep basing your life on what other people want, you’ll never find happiness in your life.
Sayge: Why will you go away?
Skeemz: That’s just how life works. (Pauses for a moment) Life is like a bus. Everyone is just a passenger on this bus. You’re just one of the many passengers. All the passengers in this bus have to get off at a different stop. If you get off at someone else’s stop, you’ll never get to your destination.
Sayge: What does that mean?
Skeemz: I’m just saying, maybe this is where you get off the bus. Maybe this is your stop. You’re not always going to see eye to eye with everyone in your life.
Sayge: (Getting worried) What about you? Are you ever going to get off the bus without me?
Skeemz: If it’s what I need to do, yes. One day, I’ll have to get off of this bus and onto another bus. Then you’ll have to figure out what stop to get off of on your own.
Sayge: What will I do if I get lost?
Skeemz: You’ll never get lost if you know where you’re going. You’ll only know where you’re going if you live wholly from within. I think that’s why Freddie is so mean.
Sayge: Wait what?
Skeemz: Yeah, she’s just a sad little girl who seeks validation.
Sayge looks confused.
Skeemz: She wants to control people to have a role in society.
Sayge:What’s my role in society?
Skeemz: You don’t need one Sayge. Don’t go looking for one. You’re different in the most beautiful way possible. You know who you are. You can’t be classified.
Sayge: Like a dictionary?
Skeemz: I don’t know kid, you tell me.
Sayge and Skeemz are at school. Sayge walks into her class to see a sea of faces staring at her. She walks slowly to her desk. Skeemz follows. Voices and murmurers can be heard.
Freddie:(To a random classmate) That’s that girl who was talking to a wall.
Classmate: She’s so weird.
Freddie: I know right.
Freddie walks over to Sayge
Freddie: Sayge, what happened to your little friend. I bet it got sick of you and left, just like everyone else.
Skeemz: I’m standing right here.
Freddie: That’s why you don’t have any friends right Sayge?
Skeemz: Don’t listen to her Sayge. She’s just trying to assert her dominance over you.
Sayge: (Stands up) You know Freddie, I’ve always wondered what your problem is.
Skeemz: (Warning) Don’t let her get to you Sayge.
Sayge: (To Freddie) You’re always stealing people’s lunch money. At first I thought it was to assert your dominance over everyone else.
Skeemz: (Warning)That’s what she’ll do if you let her get to you.
Sayge: Then I realized you’re just a sad little girl who is seeking validation from society.
Freddie: What are you talking about?
Sayge: I find it sad that your small mind can’t accept what you are. It’s a pity that society gives a silly little kid like you so much power. (Pause for a moment.) Or maybe it doesn’t. Maybe that’s just the mask that you want to keep up to fool everyone.
Freddie: You don’t know what you’re talking about.
Skeemz: (To Freddie, knowing she can’t hear him.) Most people don’t know what she’s talking about. I mean, about like 90% of the time, I don’t even think she knows what she’s talking about.
Sayge: (Eyes fixed on Freddie) I think I do.(Pause for a moment) One of these days, we will leave elementary school. We will be in the real world, where no one cares about what one angry little girl has to say.
Skeemz: (To Freddie, knowing she can’t hear him.) It’s true, most people either find angry little children too cute to listen to or annoying. My opinion about you is the latter Freddie.
Classmate: (At Sayge) Looks like someone is cranky because they missed their nap time.
Skeemz: (Turns to Classmate, with a fake smile) Child, at least she ain’t the one in desperate need for some beauty sleep. (Snaps his fingers)
Sayge: (Turns to Classmate, with a fake smile) Child, at least I ain’t the one in desperate need for some beauty sleep. (Snaps her fingers)
Freddie: Look who’s talking.
Sayge: I am talking, and you will listen. You can keep up your little popularity game for as long as you want Freddie, but you can’t make me play it.
Classmate: You’re so full of yourself. Why can’t you just be like everyone else. Then maybe you can get some friends.
Freddie: She’s just some little freak.
Sayge: (Boldly) No, I’m pretty sure that I’m a dictionary.
Sayge looks at the audience. Skeemz looks at Sayge in approval.
All rights reserved © 2016 Josephine Joyil
Juniper laid on her bed, with her back pressed against the duvet and her eyes fixed on the ceiling fan. The smell of dust, the periodic creaking of loose floorboards and the antique ceiling fan that whined as it spun. This was home. There was, indeed, no place like it. It is the place that you return to when your presence is no longer required in the outside world. It is the place where you feel whole, surrounded by those whom you love. Everything here feels unforgettable. Yet, when Juniper laid on her bed that evening, something felt forgotten. It was like a word that you had at the tip of your tongue, or a dream you had at the break of dawn, it is forgotten. Its absence can be felt, and you can almost hear it laughing at the back of your head at your foolish forgetfulness. But that is the only remaining evidence that it ever existed.
Juniper got up, and examined the perimeter of what was once her childhood bedroom that she shared with her sister. On the wall was an oil painting that her sister had painted when she was about thirteen. Their mother was so proud of her. “This one has a true talent,” she remembers someone saying. She doesn’t remember who it was that said this.“This one has a future.”
Juniper and her sister seldom fought. Her sister being the civil lady that she was and Juniper knowing that she wouldn’t be the one winning. She was envious of her sister, but her love overshadowed her envy and allowed her to disguise her envy as pride for her sister. She would often comment on the many gifts that her sister possessed. She still speaks highly of her sister. It’s easier to hide the envy now that her sister is but a memory. Her body- which one radiated the dazzling rays of youth- is now one with the dirt and worms.
“Who has a future now” Juniper would often smirk, but the morbid thought saddened her more than it pleased her. She often feels that the wrong sister had been effaced from the face of the earth.
When her sister was alive, Juniper was a memory- a forgotten memory, even- one that was so faint that it almost didn’t exist. She knew that she could have been remembered and that knowledge gave her hope when she was a child. It was the kind of hope that fueled her will to live until her entire existence depended on it.
All rights reserved © 2015 Josephine Joyil
23 August , 1933
It started out as a flash of light from the heavens above. The beautiful rays that radiated from this flash expanded and kissed the horizons surrounding them. The people looked up and marveled at the malevolent beauty of their own destruction. Children glared at the ostentatious light flashing in the skies above them. It was almost as if they did not know that such ostentatious gifts always comes with a prize. I suppose ignorance was indeed bliss. Or maybe it was not ignorance at all that brought the people of Fernweh Street to come out and indulge in the enchanting light show. Perhaps it was the knowledge that death was,in fact one of the most genuine and inevitable aspects of life. Perhaps the people of Fernweh Street wanted to spend their last moments on earth cherishing the beauty of the savage way they were about to die. Perhaps they preferred to perish standing hand in hand with their kin. Either way, the people of Fernweh Street were standing on the streets there that night with their eyes fixed on the beams of radiation expanding out into the horizons. With a smile on their faces, they accepted death with open arms.
All rights reserved © 2016 Josephine Joyil
Towards the evening they finally arrived at the destination, but it was not at all what they had been expecting. In the end of the street stood the old villa. It looked so out of place surrounded by all the modern houses on Spencer Street.All rights reserved © 2013 Josephine Joyil
Dr. Alice Argent and Detective James Cullen stepped out of the minivan and made their way to the front door of the house.
There was an elderly woman sitting on a rocking chair on the porch.
“Mrs.McArthur?” Argent asked.
“Yes.” snapped the elderly women. Her cold grey eyes that lacked of any signs of life sent a chill down Alice’s spine. McArthur sat with a straight back for she is a proper lady who disapproves of slouching. And why shouldn’t she? Your posture says a lot about you.
“I am Dr. Alice Argent. This is Detective James Cullen.” Argent introduced,“We were sent to investigate about the disappearance of Isaac Dawson.”
“Is it alright if we have a look around his room for clues?” Asked Detective Cullen.
“If you must” Mrs.MacArthur replied.
“The victim’s neck and back were swollen up with rashes. Did he have any know allergies?”
“Not that I know of.” replied Mrs.McArthur.
“According to his medical record, he was a perfectly healthy boy, mentally and physically. ” said James, “But it also stated that his last checkup was ten years ago. Why was this?”
“Like you said detective, he was a healthy boy.” Replied Mrs.McArthur.
“Are you saying that he didn’t get sick even once for the past ten years?”
“Not even a common fever?”
“I don’t believe that for a moment.”
“If I didn’t know any better detective, I’d say you’re interrogating me.” Mrs. McArthur snapped, “I raised that boy as if he were my own son ever since his mother died. I made sure that he stayed healthy. If you are questioning my parental instincts, keep it to yourself.”
“With all due respect ma’am, your ‘parental instincts’ seem to not have been strong enough. In case you haven’t noticed the boy is dead.”
“That’s enough detective.” commanded Dr.Argent, “I think it is best if you search for clues in Isaac’s room, and I ask Mrs.McArthur about the boy’s medical records. I am the doctor after all.”
James gave a simple nod and left for Isaac’s room. While he was searching Isaac’s room for clues, Alice was trying to learn more about the death.
“Was he suicidal?” Asked Alice
“Not that I knew of.” Said Mrs.McArthur.
“What happened to his mom?”
“She died of an about ten years ago.”
“Did that affect his mental health?” Asked Alice.
“Like I said before, I don’t know.”
Alice regarded this for a moment. She had the gut feeling that Mrs.McArthur wasn’t telling her the completely truth. She decided to give it another try. “Did he have any phobias or mental disorders?” She asked
“He did have a very mild case of kleptomania.”
“The child has an irrational habit of robbing drugstores.”
“Did you ever have him treated?”
“No. That’s the problem with this generation. You don’t need to be treated if you’re a thief. You need to be punished.”
“You wouldn’t call a kleptomaniac a thief though would you?” Asked Alice. “ They can’t help that they have this disorder.”
“It’s my job as his legal guardian to ensure that he breaks free of his nasty habits.” Snapped Mrs.McArthur.
“How did you punish him?”
“Now that’s none of your business.” She snapped. Alice spent the rest of the evening with James combing Isaac’s room for clues on how he died. They didn’t find anything until Alice tripped over a loose floorboard.
Curiosity got the best of her. She lifted the floorboard. Beneath it laid a worn out journal bound in leather. It was quite charming. The smell of old paper lingered in the air the moment the journal was opened. There weren’t any dates in the journal. Just names and a description. Alice knew that it was an invasion of privacy, but curiosity made her keep reading. Alice’s eyes widened with shock and fear as she flipped through the pages. Her heart was pounding through her chest. Ignorance was indeed bliss, she realized, for now the mystery of how Isaac and his mother died was solved;on the other hand, she now knew who he next victims were.
She turned around to see that James left.
“James,” she screamed, “We need to get out of here.”
She grabbed the journal and dashed out of the room.
“James is gone, you are next.” She said. The hair on the back of Alice’s neck stood up. A chill raced down her spine. Alice turned around and got one last glance at those grey, lifeless, eyes before her own eyes lacked of any signs of life.
Mrs.MacArthur looked down at her journal and started to write.
The last two murders were quite boring. Just a simple gunshot. It’s whom you kill that really matters, isn’t it? A detective and a doctor in the same day! What an achievement!
Mrs. Dawson’s death was really an accident. I didn’t think that she was an asthmatic, and neither of us knew that she was allergic to pollen. How would we know? I never allowed her the privilege of exiting her room. Perhaps I shouldn’t have sent my poor young maid to work in the garden that spring morning. My proudest accomplishment was the boy, Isaac.
Mrs. McArthur paused and flipped back to the entry labeled Isaac Dawson.
Stealing used to be punishable by death back in the middle ages. Why shouldn’t kleptomania be punishable as well? The word would b a better place without those thieves. ‘Medical Condition’ what a pathetic excuse.
I noticed that the boy had a habit of robbing pet stores. Insects were his main object of interest. I was only trying to teach him a lesson at first. I learned somewhere that he most painful and bite was that from a bullet ant. I wanted to test exactly how painful. So I placed a dew under his pillow. I discovered that these ants don’t just bite, they also sent out a pheromone to signal other ants to bite as well.
Of course, I wasn’t too cruel. After a few hours of watching him scream and wither in pain, I held him down and presented him with an remedy. 100 ml of concentrated Hemlock. I told him h could end his suffering there and then. If he just drank the Hemlock he would die. Slowly, but eventually. Otherwise, he will be in pain for the next ten hours, and I will set more ants on him once the ten hours are over. He obviously took the vial. Unfortunately for him, I didn’t mention that the vial would send his body into a paralysis.While his mind remained wide awake. He was capable of feeling the pain, but unable to move.
I watched, intruded by his rapid breathing. He tried, but failed, to talk. Life was slowly slipping out of his electric blue eyes. He tried to give me a dirty look. Soon, he just closed his eyes, then slipped into a coma, then death.
There are things I learned,All rights reserved © 2014 Josephine Joyil
from the roller coaster I call life.
And I would like to share some,
With my wide eyed kindergarten self.
Let the world know,
that your friendship is not for sale.
It should be earned,
it has a value immeasurable by a scale.
There are people out there,
who wants to crush your spirit into dust.
Don’t let them win the game of life,
just brush yourself off and try again.
When someone breaks your trust,
remember to forgive them,
but never forget them.
They are sure to strike again
The key to life is confidence.
People will try to snatch it away.
Once you get it you can open the chest,
and find the treasure known as victory.
Pear pressure is an ugly face.
It will pull you in and won’t let go.
Say no to it and your reputation,
won’t be punched with any holes.
The truth matters a lot, I know.
But it may scar other’s self esteem.
Once it’s spilled their soul is shattered.
So don’t forget to butter your toast
Remember a single smile,
can brighten up a mile.
It is your duty as a child,
to make the grownups feel worthwhile.
Trust is vital to recipe for life.
But so is cautiousness.
Excessive trust can ruin the life.
Like too much salt to a dish.
Another thing I know,
is that trust has value.
It should be fairly bargained.
It’s to be more treasured than money.
Last but not the least,
childhood is to be cherished.
Once your old, it’s done.
It’s completely perished.
That’s all the advice,
that I can give to you.
Bear in mind I’m only twelve.
I should probably use this advice too.
One thing I know,All rights reserved © 2014 Josephine Joyil
is that life is too short;
you only have a spoonful of time.
When you hold a grudge,
you are hurting yourself,
it’s like scarring your soul and your mind.
The challenges in life,
are the tests that you get
to prepare you to take on the world
Things happen for reasons,
at a certain time,
and it helps you to enter the world
Loss is a boulder, that we have to carry,
but profit is a pebble,
unrecognized till it’s gone.
If you take more than you need,
and never say thank you,
you will eventually end up alone
You get one life,
you get one chance,
Do everything that you need and want.
When you have a bad day,
you can tell to yourself that,
You only need to live this day once.
Enjoy the present,
because it is a gift
You can only savor it for now
To sum it all up,
the best thing I know,
is that life is just stuffed with surprises.
There are things in life, that I have not masteredAll rights reserved © 2014 Josephine Joyil
Being patient is one of them.
All that time I thought, “It doesn’t matter”,
But it turns out to be the personality’s stem.
One other thing that I never learned is,
how to be proud of myself.
I saved the world and two days later,
“It’s no biggy,” I would tell myself.
“Life isn’t fair,” I always hear.
“But, why oh why?” I would ask.
The answer I get is , “The answer is near
And now go back to your task”.
I know this may sound
quite a bit silly,
but another thing that I haven’t learned
is how to climb a tree.
My phone is my love,
My phone is my life,
I can’t live without it,
Like a husband to a wife,
Yet another thing I am bad at,
is taking advice from a young kid.
When they say, “ That’s so easy dude”,
I’ll never know what they just did.
These are six things that the world boos at me for,
Ending my poem is the seventh one.
I know, the rest of my poem was great
But my endings are as lame as an ill horse.