A short story about a man on the run after robbing a shop.

Why don’t they ever listen.

The Hard Way (Part 1) **ROUGH DRAFT** Possible Spelling/Grammar Errors.

This poem is for remembrance day and it is about life in the trenches. It is much cruder then I normally write in poetry,however; as I envisioned life in the trenches, it wasn’t sweet and pretty,it was nasty and cruel,death everywhere and no where to hide from it. My great grandfather, Harold Leadbetter served both in world war one and world war two, in the trenches for the first world war and stationed in Briton as an air force captain for the second war. I can clearly remember my mom telling me that every time she would ask him questions about the war he would break down and cry because the memories were so horrendous and then he would open a bottle to try and forget. Personally I believe to survive something like that you needed a lot of anger and courage and I tried to put as much of that into this poem as I possibly could.

Heres number seven!

From sweet to sour.simple as that.

A submission of thought.

The years have been cruel. This cannot be my image I see before me…

…My answer to the Triond forum writing challenge round 13, where something is to be written using the words “rusty nail” and “netting”.

There once was a little girl…

Run.