Outcasts





Mission﻿ Statement- We will be here for our fellow group members and other classmates to help with their writing and other problems. (We’re like Oprah and Dr. Phil only better!!!! So come to us with your problems) [|Beowulf Parody]

TearJerker - I am an artist and I breakdance! But I write really well and I am looking to improve to make it better!

BookWorm - I love to read books! I am almost always reading something, anything I get my hands on I will read. In my spare time, I write poetry.

Ninja Penguin- I like ninjas and penguins. In my spare time I run cross-country. In class I am always cracking jokes, and I like to make people laugh.

**Sax Addict- Obviously I'm kinda a sax addict(: I like to write poetry/lyrics.**

ISH- im an actor by trade, and i love a good book. You'll never beat me in chess because i love my rook. I'm a poet and didnt know it! (just kidding) i love to work with my hands and build things. If anyone needs help you can come to me, there wont even be a fee :)

PROLOGUE

Five people came on my bus joining the rest of us. I picked them up at starbucks when they came in they made ruckus. After I had my lunch they came on in a bunch, All of them went to the back to get away from the pack. They were all dressed crisp and right thinking they looked so tight. As we traveled to the city, the view outside was really pretty. The trees were all of many colors not one looked exactly like the others. We saw many types o them, including a maple, there were children under, they were so playful- To see the leaves fall and where the towers were tall we're going to where they fell to the ground so we can go and walk around they say they're going for "inspiration" but I only laugh at their desperation I also let out a slight chuckle when I realized my seat belt wasn't buckled. They sat down altogether, as waves crash in messy weather. The old seats made an ugly sound as the artist looked around at the place they would soon leave behind. There was no comfort that I could provide. I took one more look back as the journalist went in his knapsack. I pulled on the long black lever the double doors slowly came together, however an old lady’s cane blocked the double doors she stood waiting her legs covered in sores. I opened the doors and she came in looked at my name tag and said, “Its abou time Hamilton” well I guess that’s it, there’s nothing left to tell about this cold seasons weather when the leaves fell I pressed on the gas and we were off, to a place where men's lives were lost. Next to tell is of all the passenger, starting with the musician, going on until we reach all of there interactions.

** Musician **

Of one that came aboard to travel, Has a story I will now unravel. She's on this trip to be inspired, By everyone else she was admired. Looked as she was always at her best, So well put together and so well dressed. Her dark blue jeans floated above her shoes, In which bright colors they were bejeweled. Her tunic was long and flowy and white, Against her eyes it popped just right. So she headed towards the back of the bus, An instrument in hand-a definite must. Her strides were powerful, indeed, Born to perform, born to lead. I could hear her giggle, her laugh, her voice, Talking to people was always her choice. However, focused she seemed to stay, Always at work but also at play. Down to earth is what she seemed, A musician, you could tell, is what she would be.

By: Sax Addict ** Dancer **

There once was a dancer not of noble birth but rather from the streets on Brooklyn’s turf he wore no tights or tutus for they were to lame instead he rocked skinny jeans with no shame he could jerk he could poplock and even flex jumped on his toes without a single regret a dancer at heart no scholar nor priest twas not worried about his future in the least he wore bright colors and a brown leather vest his shoes blinded me form the strings to their red shoe crest from yellow to red, pink and green reminded me of myself in the 70's without all the hair sheen his hair stretched out into one thousand spider legs he smelled of a sweet aroma of corn bread walked with a swag not a limp but a beat with ears enclosed with music the faint tapping of his feet no care in the world or thought in his mind only the flow of the bass as his shoulders moved side to side this guy he was different, intriguing indeed this dancer I met he was born to lead.

By: TearJerker ** Poet **

There was a poet so distinguished she sat sometimes in anguish finding the right words was like sharpening swords staring at a page as blank as her mind wondering in whom to confide when words came she thought of them with shame thinking they were no good as many poets do the hand wanted to put words where they belong the stack of paper wearing down joints creaking as words poured out her hands stained with ink not the color of natural skin struggling to find the right words that are nuggets of gold to find hidden meanings that readers can find interesting

By: BookWorm

** The Journalist **

His hair was perfectly done Parted surgically as if he never had fun For clothing he chose a button down shirt Completely the opposite of what I wear to a concert For pants he chose to be bland Just a pair of jeans and don’t misunderstand He was all business never that funny He had to be because he had no money From what I heard he was passionate when he spoke Each word carefully laid as delicate as smoke He came on the bus looking for his next great work His face was filled with a great big smirk He knew what the people sought A story that would make them distraught They would all be stunned And he would become rotund This trip was merely a way to make him rich Just as if he turned an ignition switch

By: Ninja Penguin
 * Actor **

The actor, looking sophisticated and tall Was worried like he was waiting for a call. He sat down in the back re reading the well used script Anxiously awaiting for the start of this trip. He looked charming with his smile and his bright blue eyes Carefully matching his suit with his ties. His chiseled features along with his long dark hair Made his female fans very aware. He started out as an extra always on cue, Now his dreams of the red carpet can finally come true He started out in a high school play Doing any job that came his way Even the miniscule roles he did his best Taking it one step farther then all the rest. Long after high school he finally has the leads His next role was one he was told to heed The story of a firefighter who risked his life to save a boy The boy was young, small and coy The building was big and had many rooms The firefighter couldn’t see through the plumes The fire was strong and didn’t relent The boy didn’t make it—the fireman felt the need to repent. The actor’s job was to tell his story Even if the details were gory. To find his character and his mind set He’s traveling with the rest to a place of most regret. While he sits in the back I know he’ll find what he needs this is a place of many peoples disbelief.

By: ISH