A small brown twig crunched under my boot as I tiptoed through the forest. I frowned, and tried to avoid stepping on any more sticks or crunchy leaves. I had to be silent. As silent as the deer that passed this way.
The twif seamed to cling to my wool jacket with the tenacity of a bulldog holding onto a bone.
Pick away as I may at the thing, it wouldn’t come undone.
I wore it like a medal all day.
The things left undone.
I like to read a lot because we learn a lot from books what else can I say? my favorite book is the Bible, Tht is my salvaton, my guide, my lamp, my bread, the way to the Father, God’s word
it is inevitable but true. they are the epitome of existence. if these stop existing, it can be prophesized that i will stop existing. for they are twigs, and they are attached to much greater things.
Snapped like a twig.
My heart, my soul, my very being, broken in one tiny movement from you.
You didn’t even have to try.
You didn’t even care.
You just did it, breaking me into little pieces for the fire that is your selfish life and setting me alight.
Now I burn, not so brightly, but always in pain.
The twig cracked beneath my foot and I spun round, hoping no one had heard. They hadn’t. I carried on in the darkness and heard more twigs cracking, I kept stopping to listen but no one had wakened. Sliently I crouched down and continued on my way, picking up the sticks that lay in my path so as not to make any noise. It was slow progress, but it was progress, and more importantly, it was quiet.
The twig hung from the branch of tree that had fallen. It was pointing up to the late afternoon sky of an autumn that had been poor for the farmers of Humboldt. But they didn’t care. They didn’t care as they passed the twig that it was pointing upward toward that brilliant blue washed with grey and cold. They cared only about the harvest and how fast the rains were said to be coming this year. They cared only about the road on which they walked. They cared only about their stomachs.
twigs are small, and all ove the yard everytime the wind blows. I hate samll twigs that get stuck in the lawnmower and fly out everywhere hitting everything, that really hurts if it hits you
she stepped onto the twig and heard it snap beneath her foot. the sound was so simple yet so loud in the stillness of the night,. looking down at the broken pieces she bent to pick them up and began walking again. it was the sound of another twig snapping behind her that caused her to twirl around and scream in terror as the hand clamped suddenly on her mouth preventing the scream of tearing through her throught. Oh god what was to become of her. Kicking she managed to get a few blows onto her attacker before her foot connected with his personal area and he let go!
this life is like a twig, strong and reslient when attached to the rest of the full bodied tree, upon falling away from the safety of the comfortable home, the twig grows brittle…
Twig makes a tree a resemblence to life. I have many friends that are twigs and many that are branches. I don’t need any more twig friends because they break easily.
There was that story I read once, I think it was in a highlights magazine or something. Two brothers were arguing about something-or-other, perhaps they had to rake the leaves together and just didn’t want to, and then
i took some twigs and started to build a tiny little house for my pet twiggy wiggy.but midway twig house collapsed due to heavy wind.and twiggy was left without a house
The buds looked too heavy on the little twig – one wondered it could support so much life. Dangling thier ready to become ripe apples. not much to look at, the littlest knobbliest twig but bearer of rich ripe fruit.
twig, i don’t know what it i, i know it was or is the name of a top model. i saw here on america’ next top model, I wonder if twig means anything else. If I had time I would go look for it in google, but
Twig war früher mein Lieblingsbuch. Deines auch. Wir saßen oft da, lasen gemeinsam und schwiegen einträchtig. Schöne Zeiten damals. Nur leider sind sie vergangen. Ich wollte mich melden, diese Woche. Letzte Woche auch schon. Leider kam ich nicht dazu. Ach, ich wäre dazu gekommen, irgendwie. Wenn ich gewollt hätte. Wollte ich wirklich nicht?
I saw a twig on a tree
The tree was green
The spring leaves were fresh
I cut the twig off
and made it grow in a glass of water
It grew roots, and I planted it
Soon a new tree grew in my back yard.
a branch. It is brown, it is woody. They’re on trees, and I wonder if they taste good, they fall of the trees a lot, they’re actually kind of boring, nothing too special about them.
twigs come from trees. they usually snap in the woods in horror movies. Not sure why. are people really just anti-stealth and feel the need to step on twigs? anti-twig?
Ever wonder if snapping twigs in inappropriate settings will make people think that they are in horror movies?
She snapped the twig in half. fully aware of what to do and she did it. the twi was gone and so my my flu and she flew with it on her back, just a name in her recollection. collecting lives in her pocket like lint and twigs and paperclips suetepapeles
there was a twig that was on a branch, and that branch was on a tree, and i dont know what this has to do with me. why am i writing about a twig? because it appeared at the top of a web page, saying i must write. so i am.
ok so if i broke it off and it snapped, i would call it a twig. If my arm were any larger, I couldn’t call it a twig!! What if my arm just snapped and I ate it? This is pitifual. I’m looking at my pencil and all i see is mighty oak. The mightiest of all oaks powerful guarding its fortress of acorns and squirrels armies and such.
she reached out for the twig that was floating past her in the flood. she desperately needed to hold on to something. it wasn’t much help, really, but gave her some hope.
One day there was a bird who wanted to build a nest. She needed to find a good twig. She found one that was too long, and one that was too short, and then she finally a good one.
A small brown twig crunched under my boot as I tiptoed through the forest. I frowned, and tried to avoid stepping on any more sticks or crunchy leaves. I had to be silent. As silent as the deer that passed this way.
By Jenna on 09.26.2009
The twif seamed to cling to my wool jacket with the tenacity of a bulldog holding onto a bone.
Pick away as I may at the thing, it wouldn’t come undone.
I wore it like a medal all day.
The things left undone.
By gracie on 09.26.2009
fingerskinny sticking through bars greedy little face like a monkey called her twig cos she was brown and gnarled and dry.
By puffinbrae on 09.26.2009
I like to read a lot because we learn a lot from books what else can I say? my favorite book is the Bible, Tht is my salvaton, my guide, my lamp, my bread, the way to the Father, God’s word
By Anonymous on 09.26.2009
it is inevitable but true. they are the epitome of existence. if these stop existing, it can be prophesized that i will stop existing. for they are twigs, and they are attached to much greater things.
By Jordan on 09.26.2009
Snapped like a twig.
My heart, my soul, my very being, broken in one tiny movement from you.
You didn’t even have to try.
You didn’t even care.
You just did it, breaking me into little pieces for the fire that is your selfish life and setting me alight.
Now I burn, not so brightly, but always in pain.
By Kristine on 09.26.2009
Twig. A lonely branch. Forgotten. Fell off a tree, maybe got stepped on. A lonely life. A troublesome existence.
By Jessica Pauline on 09.26.2009
Stark. Beautiful. Bright white light, Every twig standing out in sharp contrast to the gray sky behind it.
By Dreamybee on 09.26.2009
The twig cracked beneath my foot and I spun round, hoping no one had heard. They hadn’t. I carried on in the darkness and heard more twigs cracking, I kept stopping to listen but no one had wakened. Sliently I crouched down and continued on my way, picking up the sticks that lay in my path so as not to make any noise. It was slow progress, but it was progress, and more importantly, it was quiet.
By sophy on 09.26.2009
The twig snapped. He ran through the woods and snapped another twig. He made a fire with many twigs.
By revecca on 09.26.2009
The twig hung from the branch of tree that had fallen. It was pointing up to the late afternoon sky of an autumn that had been poor for the farmers of Humboldt. But they didn’t care. They didn’t care as they passed the twig that it was pointing upward toward that brilliant blue washed with grey and cold. They cared only about the harvest and how fast the rains were said to be coming this year. They cared only about the road on which they walked. They cared only about their stomachs.
By SHM on 09.26.2009
Twig, all alone. You remind me of Stig of the Dump only because the words sound similar. Now that’s a good book to read if you get the chance.
By Sally on 09.26.2009
twigs are small, and all ove the yard everytime the wind blows. I hate samll twigs that get stuck in the lawnmower and fly out everywhere hitting everything, that really hurts if it hits you
By Michael michal.loudermilk@att.net on 09.26.2009
She snapped a twig from a nearby branch
And twirled it, blissfully.
She sat down by the riverbank
Under the willow tree.
The clouds above
Reflected her love
For everything outside.
A bird perched
And began to chirp,
As she began to cry.
By vish on 09.26.2009
I don’t understand, wut lolololl
By dicks on 09.26.2009
she stepped onto the twig and heard it snap beneath her foot. the sound was so simple yet so loud in the stillness of the night,. looking down at the broken pieces she bent to pick them up and began walking again. it was the sound of another twig snapping behind her that caused her to twirl around and scream in terror as the hand clamped suddenly on her mouth preventing the scream of tearing through her throught. Oh god what was to become of her. Kicking she managed to get a few blows onto her attacker before her foot connected with his personal area and he let go!
By cerelian on 09.26.2009
this life is like a twig, strong and reslient when attached to the rest of the full bodied tree, upon falling away from the safety of the comfortable home, the twig grows brittle…
By Anonymous on 09.26.2009
its a part of a tree. its skinny and brown? i have friends who look like twigs too. i dont know how they got that way.
By lynette on 09.26.2009
Twig makes a tree a resemblence to life. I have many friends that are twigs and many that are branches. I don’t need any more twig friends because they break easily.
By Cabrina on 09.26.2009
There was that story I read once, I think it was in a highlights magazine or something. Two brothers were arguing about something-or-other, perhaps they had to rake the leaves together and just didn’t want to, and then
By Anonymous on 09.26.2009
i took some twigs and started to build a tiny little house for my pet twiggy wiggy.but midway twig house collapsed due to heavy wind.and twiggy was left without a house
By mah on 09.26.2009
He was a twig. A pure twig. With skinny, twiggy arms, and a twiggy torso. It was like hugging myself.
By Natalie on 09.26.2009
The buds looked too heavy on the little twig – one wondered it could support so much life. Dangling thier ready to become ripe apples. not much to look at, the littlest knobbliest twig but bearer of rich ripe fruit.
By Charlie B on 09.26.2009
twig, i don’t know what it i, i know it was or is the name of a top model. i saw here on america’ next top model, I wonder if twig means anything else. If I had time I would go look for it in google, but
By pri on 09.26.2009
Twig war früher mein Lieblingsbuch. Deines auch. Wir saßen oft da, lasen gemeinsam und schwiegen einträchtig. Schöne Zeiten damals. Nur leider sind sie vergangen. Ich wollte mich melden, diese Woche. Letzte Woche auch schon. Leider kam ich nicht dazu. Ach, ich wäre dazu gekommen, irgendwie. Wenn ich gewollt hätte. Wollte ich wirklich nicht?
By Anonymous on 09.26.2009
A snap. What was that? A bear? Mountain lion. Here? In the middle of Manhattan? No. A mugger. Run! Wait.
By nyc_falcon@yahoo.com on 09.26.2009
A twig… is a tiny person. It’s a small thing. It’s a breakable thing. It is a skninny, nearly insubstantial thing. It is a natural thing.
By Shelby on 09.26.2009
I saw a twig on a tree
The tree was green
The spring leaves were fresh
I cut the twig off
and made it grow in a glass of water
It grew roots, and I planted it
Soon a new tree grew in my back yard.
By Carolien on 09.26.2009
a branch. It is brown, it is woody. They’re on trees, and I wonder if they taste good, they fall of the trees a lot, they’re actually kind of boring, nothing too special about them.
By jesse on 09.26.2009
twig twiggy salvador bestro.
What a nice sort of a chap that one.
He always used to wiggle his ears when no one was watching
By Fret on 09.26.2009
twigs come from trees. they usually snap in the woods in horror movies. Not sure why. are people really just anti-stealth and feel the need to step on twigs? anti-twig?
Ever wonder if snapping twigs in inappropriate settings will make people think that they are in horror movies?
By Jay on 09.26.2009
These veins are like twigs, cracking beneath my weight. These living, breathing twigs which rely on I to survive. Survive, survive.
By becca on 09.26.2009
She snapped the twig in half. fully aware of what to do and she did it. the twi was gone and so my my flu and she flew with it on her back, just a name in her recollection. collecting lives in her pocket like lint and twigs and paperclips suetepapeles
By meth [sic] on 09.26.2009
branches on a tree. mostly brown in color. many leaves. sprouts seeds that grow into trees. and now writers block.
By Anonymous on 09.26.2009
there was a twig that was on a branch, and that branch was on a tree, and i dont know what this has to do with me. why am i writing about a twig? because it appeared at the top of a web page, saying i must write. so i am.
By Anonymous on 09.26.2009
ok so if i broke it off and it snapped, i would call it a twig. If my arm were any larger, I couldn’t call it a twig!! What if my arm just snapped and I ate it? This is pitifual. I’m looking at my pencil and all i see is mighty oak. The mightiest of all oaks powerful guarding its fortress of acorns and squirrels armies and such.
By Farrell McKenna on 09.26.2009
the twig lay on the floor amongst all the oranges browns, redsa and gold leaves
By Anonymous on 09.26.2009
twig, branch, limb, tree, those are the things I would want to… something that ryhmes with tree.
By Troy on 09.26.2009
she reached out for the twig that was floating past her in the flood. she desperately needed to hold on to something. it wasn’t much help, really, but gave her some hope.
By badingangbato on 09.26.2009
One day there was a bird who wanted to build a nest. She needed to find a good twig. She found one that was too long, and one that was too short, and then she finally a good one.
By Eliza on 09.26.2009