3 Best Poems/Journal Entries
My Name Journal Entry
Abigail Riley
It’s 5:33 pm on March 11th 2000. The crammed hospital room is filled with so many emotions like happiness and joy. All eyes look to the little human being the women’s holding in her arms. She then lifts the tiny baby up and hands her to the father. “What's her name?” the doctor asks. “We have no clue.” the father lets out a laugh. That tiny little human being, that small and innocent baby, is me.
My parents had a name for me before I was born. Actually before they knew if I was a boy or girl. I would have been called Elijah or Eli for short if I was a boy but they never planned out a name if I was to be a girl. How did I get my name you might ask? Its a funny story actually.....
Chuck is my dad's best friend. They have been friends since middle school. One day, a couple months before I was born, Chuck showed my dad a song called “Abigail” by King Diamond, a heavy metal band. Once he heard the song he knew he liked it and the title. When he knew I was a girl, he immediately wanted to name me Abigail. So I guess I was named off of a song by a heavy metal band.
The name Abigail is Hebrew and it means "fathers joy". The name comes from the Old Testament, King David's third wife was named Abigail. She was considered beautiful and intelligent. During the year I was born, the name Abigail was ranked #14 on the U.S baby popularity chart.
I like my name. I think it suits me well because to me Abigail is kind of dainty and long and so is my body type. I'm not very stocky or very muscular. My parents defiantly made the right choice in naming me. How they got the idea was weird but it doesn't matter, I like my name and I never want to change it.
My parents had a name for me before I was born. Actually before they knew if I was a boy or girl. I would have been called Elijah or Eli for short if I was a boy but they never planned out a name if I was to be a girl. How did I get my name you might ask? Its a funny story actually.....
Chuck is my dad's best friend. They have been friends since middle school. One day, a couple months before I was born, Chuck showed my dad a song called “Abigail” by King Diamond, a heavy metal band. Once he heard the song he knew he liked it and the title. When he knew I was a girl, he immediately wanted to name me Abigail. So I guess I was named off of a song by a heavy metal band.
The name Abigail is Hebrew and it means "fathers joy". The name comes from the Old Testament, King David's third wife was named Abigail. She was considered beautiful and intelligent. During the year I was born, the name Abigail was ranked #14 on the U.S baby popularity chart.
I like my name. I think it suits me well because to me Abigail is kind of dainty and long and so is my body type. I'm not very stocky or very muscular. My parents defiantly made the right choice in naming me. How they got the idea was weird but it doesn't matter, I like my name and I never want to change it.
Circular Poem
All is Good
Piles of gold coins, big fancy yachts
All is good, All is honest
Each one standing there,
In their tight short dresses and
Big diamond studs on the necks
Sipping appletinis and
Feeding off of the weak’s
Suffering
Pretty on the outside
Ruthless, cold hearted
On the inside
Spinning their lies like webs
Money and social standings
Hiding the truth
They ruin lives
Take what is not there's
And go on living their
Perfect little lives
As I sit there,
In my unworthy, unfashionable clothes,
Secretly loathing those two faced
Liars, I think about revenge.
Piles of gold coins, big fancy yachts
All is good, All is fake
All is good, All is honest
Each one standing there,
In their tight short dresses and
Big diamond studs on the necks
Sipping appletinis and
Feeding off of the weak’s
Suffering
Pretty on the outside
Ruthless, cold hearted
On the inside
Spinning their lies like webs
Money and social standings
Hiding the truth
They ruin lives
Take what is not there's
And go on living their
Perfect little lives
As I sit there,
In my unworthy, unfashionable clothes,
Secretly loathing those two faced
Liars, I think about revenge.
Piles of gold coins, big fancy yachts
All is good, All is fake
Where I'm From Poem
Where I'm From
I am from missing hair ties.
From big brown eyes and small skinny limbs.
I am from strong structure, like the glassy tower I live in.
From the sun in my eyes when I wake up
And the moon I gaze into at night.
I am from softball twelve hours a week.
From watching pro football to screaming at the tv when a bad play occurs
I am from “just rub some dirt on it” and “lets just play it by ear”.
From steak, stuffed shells and sushi.
I am from always being right.
From strong willed hearts and lazy days.
I am from ordering pizza and listening to Christmas jingles while decorating the tree.
From giant soaring houses and tiny purse dogs in the elevator.
In an old shoe box is a Hello Kitty lock box.
Filled with little gifts from elementary friends,
Special coins and knick-knacks like
Notes and favorite pencils.
It takes me back to the good ol’ days,
Sitting with my friends at lunch,
Bees buzzing all around, the wind blowing our hair in our face
As we exchange what we found.
Locked in that box is memories
I hope to never forget.
From big brown eyes and small skinny limbs.
I am from strong structure, like the glassy tower I live in.
From the sun in my eyes when I wake up
And the moon I gaze into at night.
I am from softball twelve hours a week.
From watching pro football to screaming at the tv when a bad play occurs
I am from “just rub some dirt on it” and “lets just play it by ear”.
From steak, stuffed shells and sushi.
I am from always being right.
From strong willed hearts and lazy days.
I am from ordering pizza and listening to Christmas jingles while decorating the tree.
From giant soaring houses and tiny purse dogs in the elevator.
In an old shoe box is a Hello Kitty lock box.
Filled with little gifts from elementary friends,
Special coins and knick-knacks like
Notes and favorite pencils.
It takes me back to the good ol’ days,
Sitting with my friends at lunch,
Bees buzzing all around, the wind blowing our hair in our face
As we exchange what we found.
Locked in that box is memories
I hope to never forget.