escape
today i made an escape.
an escape far far away.
not once did i look back
because i didn't want to stay.
but something creeps behind me
something fearfully blue.
the further i ran, the bigger it grew.
its familiar, sad to say,
but i guess its really true
that you can't run away
from that something big and blue.
medusa
she fell in love
with a perfect frame.
adored by all till
a monster she became.
broken and cursed,
once a beautiful allure.
head hissing with serpents,
a princess no more.
she shouldn’t have
let her heart decide.
from a foolish desire
came a gruesome bride.
look straight in her eyes
and then you’ll see
her longing and grief
before
you
freeze.
tangled, our souls, our hearts
Write us in red lines;
bold, vibrant and sharp but
still
make it soft where our hand folds together, make it soft where I kiss your cheek
and where I laugh and you laugh harder and louder and bright and when the stars are
dancing for us and I’m trying to copy them (and failing) and you’re cheering for me on either way and the warmth is overflowing and our cheeks are flushed and the red is strongest and brightest and sharpest here but still somehow
the most gentle
O’Hare
O’Hare
A Story by Lea Sheryn
Billy Harris
Miss Flynn’s
5th Grade Class
April 27, 1952
My Hero
By Billy Harris
My hero is Edward “Butch” O’Hare.
The only son of Edward and Selma Ann O’Hare, Edward was born on March 13, 1914 in St. Louis, Missouri. His mother and father got a divorce in 1927. Butch lived with his mother and sisters in St. Louis but his father moved to Chicago.
Can you believe his father worked for Al Capone? Gee Willikers, Miss Flynn, can you imagine actually working for Scarface? Well, Butch’s father did and he was a lawyer and everything. Mr. O’Hare was a good guy and, when he realized Capone was breaking the law by not paying his taxes, he helped the government put him away. I guess even bad things happen to good guys because Mr. O’Hare was shot dead in his car in November of 1939, right before Al Capone got out of jail.
Well, back to Butch O’Hare because he really is my hero and you asked the class to write a composition about a hero. So I have to write about him now.
At first, Butch went to Western Military Academy. When he graduated in 1932, he went on to the Naval Academy in Annapolis until 1937. Annapolis is in Maryland, in case you didn’t know, Miss Flynn. Next he went for flight training in Pensacola, Florida at NAS. NAS means Naval Air Station. He learned how to do aerobatics and gunnery. His training was completed on May 2, 1940.
Edward O’Hare married a wife in Phoenix, Arizona on September 6, 1941. Her name was Rita Wooster. Their honeymoon was in Hawaii but it was cut short when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. Butch was called to duty.
On February 20th, 1942, Lieutenant Commander Edward “Butch” O’Hare became the Navy’s first Flying Ace. He single-handedly shot down several enemy bombers with limited ammunition. He was the first Naval recipient of the Medal of Honor. That made him a genuine War Hero. There was a reception at the White House for him (President Franklin Roosevelt was there and everything) and a parade in his hometown of St. Louis AND he got to go on a War Bond tour around the country. People loved him because he was a young, handsome and a hero.
Lieutenant Commander Edward “Butch” O’Hare flew in many successful missions until, on November 26, 1943, he gave his life while fighting for our country. The Japanese shot down his Grumman F6F Hellcat over the Pacific. His body was never found. He died a World War II hero. One year later, his widow, Rita O’Hare, accepted a Purple Heart and Navy Cross in his honor.
Other awards were presented later on. The Navy named in his honor, “USS O’Hare”, a Gearing-class Destroyer in January of 1945. Most memorable of all, in Chicago, the Orchard Depot Airport was renamed O’Hare.
And do you know what, Miss Flynn? As soon as I’m old enough, I’m going to join the Navy and become a pilot just like Butch O’Hare.
Just a reason
You’re trying to find a meaning.
I see that in you.
Just one reason why the names they call you aren’t true.
Searching for a reason to fight back.
Because everything they say does not feel like a lie.
You feel useless because you see no reason to keep going.
To live, fight, and die without the world ever noticing you.
Without the world ever seeing you.
Dying without ever being heard.
To be erased...it hurts.
We’re so small and yet we feel so much, and it burns.
You just want a reason to walk farther,
Because if nothing is at the end then what’s the point?
People can work so hard and get nothing in return.
So maybe we all just want a destiny.
Just to know that no matter how bad things get,
You’re just being built up for something huge, and that your pain is not just to hurt you.
Just a reason.
To keep fighting.
Just a reason.
Why all the names they call us are lies.
Well guess what?
Not everyone gets a meaning.
Not everyone sees a happy ending,
Not everyone gets to see the end of their story.
Not everyone can have somebody.
And not everyone gets to be happy.
Not by destiny.
The only purpose you will ever have,
Is the one you create for yourself.
So don’t wait for the day to come,
For it never will.
You must make it on your own.