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cwgrl503
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Name: Sarah
Gender: Female
Interests: Eventing, singing, guitar,music in general..I Love Music!!, vollyball (though I don't get to play much anymore), hanging out with friends(the best!) ... Starbucks..mmm coffee and freinds in one place!
Expertise: Eventing,
Occupation: Student
Message: message me
AIM:  cwgrl503
Member Since:
9/2/2004
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| "Coming Undone"
Keep holding on
When my brain's tickin' like a bomb
Guess the black thoughts have come Again to get me
Sweet bitter words
Unlike nothing I have heard
Sing along mocking bird
You don't affect me
That's right
Deliverance of my heart
Please strike
Be deliberate
Wait
I'm coming undone
Irate
I'm coming undone
Too late
I'm coming undone
One looks so strong
So delicate
Wait
I'm starting to suffocate
And soon I anticipate
I'm coming undone
One looks so strong
So delicate
Choke choke again
I thought my demons were my friends
Getting me in the end
They're out to get me
Since I was young
I've tasted sorrow on my tongue
And this sweet sugar gun
Does not protect me
That's right
Trigger between my eyes
Please strike
Make it quick now
I'm trying to hold it together
Head is lighter than a feather
Looks like i'm not getting better
Not getting better
~Korn~
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| Send Me a Song
Take the wave now and know that you're free
Turn your back the land, face the sea
Face the wind now, so wild and so strong
When you think of me, wave to me and send me song
Don't look back when you reach the new shore
Don't forget what you're leaving me for
Don't forget when you're missing me so
Love must never hold, never hold tight, but let go
Oh, the nights will be long when I'm not in your arms
But I'll be in this song that you sing to me
Across the sea, somehow, someday
You will be far away, so far from me
And maybe someday I will follow you in all you do
'Til then, send me a song
When the sun sets the water on fire
When the wind swells the sails of your hire
Let the call of the bird on the wind
Calm your sadness and lonliness
And then start to sing to me
I will sing to you
If you promise to send me a song
I walk by the shore and I hear
Hear your song come so faint and so clear
And I catch it, a breath on the wind
And I smile and I sing you a song
I will send you a song
I will sing you a song
I will sing to you
If you promise to send me a song
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| "Sunshine
On the window
Makes me happy
Like I should be"
What a beautiful day today was!!
Like a glimpse of the summer that I love in the dreariness of winter.
Awakening this morning felt like awakening from a long hibernation.
Like the warmth brought with it a rejuvenation of life.
And the sunshine a desire to glorify God.
Sarah
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| Another
Grandchild?
Well
almost
for
you
have
won
our
hearts
with
your survivor ways,
your crinkly
dimpled eyes,
and broad
contagious grins
becoming gradually
bilingual
and education
friendly
Three
surgeries
at
six
years
of age,
and yet one to endure,
have
been
unable
to daunt
for long
your
gritty
boyish spirit
or quick enthusiasm
You
could
have
thought
love
had
abandoned
you
along
with normalcy
but
instead
you
have
drawn
even
far away grandma
into
your
endearing
host family circle
uniting
for me
those
distant worlds
of America's rick
affluence
with tiny El Salvador's
need
as
our
fingers
entwine
and
we
fall
asleep
in
bed
together.
Written by my gradmother Fanchon Cornell
This is speaking of my little brother who will always remind me of uncrushable optomism and a love for Power Rangers, Zorro, and of course football(soccer) games in the living room. Somday I will see you again and we will play a real football game.....
I will post a pic as soon as I can get one onto here...
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| "Have not many of us, in the weary way of life, felt, in some hours, how far easier it were to die than to live?
The martyr, when faced even by a death of bodily anguish and horror, finds in the very terror of his doom a strong stimulant and tonic. There is a vivid exciement, a thrill and fervor, which may carry through any crisis of suffering that is the birth-hour of eternal glory and rest.
But to live,---to wear on, day after day, of mean, bitter, low harassing servitude, every nerve dampened and depresed, every power of feeling gradually smothered,---this long and wasting heart-martyrdom, this slow, daily bleeding away of the inward life, drop by drop, hour after hour,--- this is the true searching test of what there may be in man of woman."
Harriet Beecher Stowe
Not to be morbid or anything but this just struck me this morning.
Sarah
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