Under a tree lay a long wooden box expertly crafted. Who could have made such a beautiful piece of craftmanship? Why would they leave it so carelessly in the dirt? As she held it in her hands, she heard a faint humming. The antique box was humming.
Stop listening to your imagination; it couldn’t be actually humming. It’s a box!
She examined it with cjrious eyes for an opening. The lock was rusted shut. Just as she was about to pick at the rusted metal, she saw it.
The initials J. T.
Jennie Torrance? That can’t be.. it must be just a coincidence.
“Jennie!”
She jumped at the sound.
“Jennie, damnit girl! Get in here and practice. We still have two more acts to rehearse before dinner!”
Jennie tucked the box into her apron and hurriedly scooted to the back porch.
Beneath, below…subsequent to what is on top. An underling, servant, slave, submissive. Bottom. Submerged, deaf to the world above, caressed by rays. Sheltered. Protected.
Everyone is going under. Sinking ships, lose of money, but me it’s under the bed. To hide from the noise, the fighting, the pain. I hide under my bed at night with a pillow and my favorite stuffed bear.
Under the bridge and far away, a rabbit lives with his family. The grass is green, and the crops are abundant. However, an evil force exists that threatens their pretty kingdom. This force has been present for many years, and although the rabbits’ wits have kept their kingdom alive, they are starting to lose the battle.
Under the ruins of the once oh-so-crowded city of Telissa began a new city. All man kind had relocated in order to get closer to the earths core for warmth…stupid winter..
Under, they were under there. We could not see them, but they were under there. Hiding, giggling, doing mischievous things. They stayed under there for a long time. What were they doing? We don’t know, but they were under there, hiding.
underneath the bed is a bunch of dust bunnies. I never sweep them up. I dont know why. I guess I’m lazy. Under my umbrella umbrella breallaaaaaa in the snow it is snowing outside
Under the stars I am reduced to a speck of dust on this dusty marble. I am suddenly struck my the improbability of ever atom I normally disregard. It’s beautiful really, all those glowing, fairylight galaxies, those countless nests of potential life.
I’m going under
Falling into the deep sleep
Of the daily routine
Can someone save me?
Life can not be enjoyed if it is not lived fully.
Then why can’t I get out of this cycle of monotony?
Under. Under estimated, under appreciated, under stood. under isnt where you wanna be, but without under, we would have no above. it all balances out..really. :)
At first I didn’t understand what this page was about, but now I can tell that under is just as wonderful as over, or up, because without under there will not be over, or higher.
She used to say things like, “It’s under.”
When he would respond, “Under where?” she would laugh and laugh.
He didn’t fully appreciate those times until it was too late.
So many beautiful things under the sun that we dont appreciate in our daily lives. If one person was to put his or herself in the shoes of a person who is much less fortunate, he/she will truly begin to understand and realize all of the blessings he/she has. Its the key to being happy. The key to appreciation. The key to love.
Underwater, my head is clear. Where the fogs and the mists above sea would distort my vision, there were no such obscuring things here, and for miles, I could look out on the breathtaking beauty, this sea held. Under a warm liquid blanket, gently pulling me onwards, where newer things were to be found and explored.
I feel it pulling, on every inch of my body. It yanks and screams and drags me along, further and further down. I look up, searching for a reason, and I see you.
Under the bed, there are a lot of items. In everyone’s bedroom, the items may vary. Under a child’s bed, there are thoughts that there may be scary monsters that’ll bite your toes if they hang over the edge. Under there really, is only toys and stuffed animals. Under a teens bed, they think that there are books and magazines, while in reality, the items under the bed are more like week old sandwiches and dirty clothes. Under an adults bed, it i believed to be neat and clean. Guess again. The items under there consist of old recites or bills, possibly some clothes, and maybe the dog’s bone. Under an elderly person’s bed, is their dentures, and they most likely know that’s what is down there. Simply because they remember when they missed the rinsing cup a few nights ago and couldn’t bend down to get them.
Under the bridge made of stone lived a girl who was not very young nor very old. She enjoyed the spring when small blossoms would grown at the edge of the stream and in the moss like snow. She was dirty and blonde, but sweet and fair. She spoke softly and not often and usually braided her hair. One day in the summer when the stream was dry and the day hot a puppy joined her the bridge. The girl was scared of the dog having unhappy and somewhat painful relationships with the breed previously, so she back far away when the beast came near, but the puppy was rather obvious and mistakingly assumed the girl wished to play.
Under my feet the world stands firm.
under my hair my head works in mysterious ways.
It makes me believe, that the ground is shaking.
When in reality, the world has always been messed up.
We’re going under.
It was dark under the bridge, dark with shafts of pale diamond light streaming in from the low moon. In set the water gleaming with geometric squares of shimmery blue light and I thought that perhaps drowning was not as bad as it was made out to me.
When I see this word I think of hard times. When you’re under a lot of stress, a heavy blanket of doubt, uncertainty, or misfortune. But it also reminds me of resilience. After all, I am still here, and so is everyone else. We all go under, sometimes. But we always come back.
underwear is the most uncomfortable article of clothing that I forcibly wear. It’s nothing but a giant pain in the course of my day. Ahh, to dream of a World where no one had to wear underpants, is a World I can only pray for. I would frolic through the land without any underpants on. The breeze would feel delectable and would dance on my skin like the Native Americans did while chanting around an open campfire. It’s here I would find my sweet Delila and where I would marry her and live forever in my very own underwearless land.
I really need to stop thinking about sex all the time. Sure, it might be natural for somebody my age, but it is a bit disturbing. That being said, it is a bit funny how this word reminds me of it.
Under and over and about and through. We’re still not sure where we are but we’re sure we’re going somewhere. How I long to live under the trees that we pass by everyday. I think there must be other worlds in there. Not like out here so open and light and dry.
underneath your clothes is a paradise I’ve not imagined. There are worlds I haven’t explored, new tastes that I’ve not yet had the pleasure of balancing on my tongue.
under makes me think of trolls under a bridge. Under also makes me think of Rihannah under her umberella ella ella ay ay ay. It also makes me think og a bucket under a cow but i think thats cos it looks like “udder”.
She thought of the world under the bed. How interesting that monsters should live there! She shivered and shuddered as she lowered herself to the floor. but saw nothing.
Disappointed, she began to get up but was dragged under by clawed hands.
Under the bridge, across the river, through thee wood and to grandmaws house she was headed. It was dark and cold, but she wasn’t scared. She had done this before.
Under . I was under him. Struggling. Fighting for my breath. ‘Stop’ I tried to scream, but my mouth was suddenly filled with the taste of salt, his filthy ,disgusting hand covered my mouth. My fear heightened. How was I getting out? Help. Please. Is what I thought. But who could help? Tears of anger and frustration filled my eyes. Yet I couldn’t let him see. Couldn’t let him know how he got in how he affected me.
cat hair
toenail clippings
three pennies and two dimes
a green tic tac and a pink pez
a cherry chapstick and a white wine cork and a puzzle piece in blue
two rumors
three dirty secrets
the truth behind Uncle Moe’s incarceration
the contents of my teenage diaries
So many things swept under the rug
I decided to leave them in peace
Underneath the sky. With the stars shining brightly, twinkling. The only light source. But it seemed so far away. Too far. Much too far. How can I strive to get to the light if it’s so far? Tiny pinpricks swallowed by the endless black sky.
It was under the sky at night. Beautiful, the stars shining and shimmering. Her shadow mingled with his, blurring into one big mass of dark. But she wasn’t thinking about the dark. She was thinking about the light, and all the opportunities it would bring. No more hatred. No more pain. She was happy. And the stars glistened with approval.
Over,about , around. Look too hard but it can’t be found. Try again.
Under a tree lay a long wooden box expertly crafted. Who could have made such a beautiful piece of craftmanship? Why would they leave it so carelessly in the dirt? As she held it in her hands, she heard a faint humming. The antique box was humming.
Stop listening to your imagination; it couldn’t be actually humming. It’s a box!
She examined it with cjrious eyes for an opening. The lock was rusted shut. Just as she was about to pick at the rusted metal, she saw it.
The initials J. T.
Jennie Torrance? That can’t be.. it must be just a coincidence.
“Jennie!”
She jumped at the sound.
“Jennie, damnit girl! Get in here and practice. We still have two more acts to rehearse before dinner!”
Jennie tucked the box into her apron and hurriedly scooted to the back porch.
you will be under
neath and you will not
breathe
air again for minutes
and minutes trail months into
years and you will
think you see a crack
of light but you will not
under water and burlap
under mud and ice and
shovels under
neath and you will not
breathe
Beneath, below…subsequent to what is on top. An underling, servant, slave, submissive. Bottom. Submerged, deaf to the world above, caressed by rays. Sheltered. Protected.
Everyone is going under. Sinking ships, lose of money, but me it’s under the bed. To hide from the noise, the fighting, the pain. I hide under my bed at night with a pillow and my favorite stuffed bear.
Under the bridge and far away, a rabbit lives with his family. The grass is green, and the crops are abundant. However, an evil force exists that threatens their pretty kingdom. This force has been present for many years, and although the rabbits’ wits have kept their kingdom alive, they are starting to lose the battle.
Under the ruins of the once oh-so-crowded city of Telissa began a new city. All man kind had relocated in order to get closer to the earths core for warmth…stupid winter..
Under, they were under there. We could not see them, but they were under there. Hiding, giggling, doing mischievous things. They stayed under there for a long time. What were they doing? We don’t know, but they were under there, hiding.
underneath the bed is a bunch of dust bunnies. I never sweep them up. I dont know why. I guess I’m lazy. Under my umbrella umbrella breallaaaaaa in the snow it is snowing outside
Under the veil masking my secrets is the hidden me you’ve never seen. The me I never want you to have to meet.
I’m drowing underwater…. I’m singing “True Affections” by the blow. I’m making a 9ft tall painting inspired by this song (really.)
Under the stars I am reduced to a speck of dust on this dusty marble. I am suddenly struck my the improbability of ever atom I normally disregard. It’s beautiful really, all those glowing, fairylight galaxies, those countless nests of potential life.
I’m going under
Falling into the deep sleep
Of the daily routine
Can someone save me?
Life can not be enjoyed if it is not lived fully.
Then why can’t I get out of this cycle of monotony?
Under. Under estimated, under appreciated, under stood. under isnt where you wanna be, but without under, we would have no above. it all balances out..really. :)
At first I didn’t understand what this page was about, but now I can tell that under is just as wonderful as over, or up, because without under there will not be over, or higher.
She used to say things like, “It’s under.”
When he would respond, “Under where?” she would laugh and laugh.
He didn’t fully appreciate those times until it was too late.
So many beautiful things under the sun that we dont appreciate in our daily lives. If one person was to put his or herself in the shoes of a person who is much less fortunate, he/she will truly begin to understand and realize all of the blessings he/she has. Its the key to being happy. The key to appreciation. The key to love.
Underwater, my head is clear. Where the fogs and the mists above sea would distort my vision, there were no such obscuring things here, and for miles, I could look out on the breathtaking beauty, this sea held. Under a warm liquid blanket, gently pulling me onwards, where newer things were to be found and explored.
I feel it pulling, on every inch of my body. It yanks and screams and drags me along, further and further down. I look up, searching for a reason, and I see you.
Under the bed, there are a lot of items. In everyone’s bedroom, the items may vary. Under a child’s bed, there are thoughts that there may be scary monsters that’ll bite your toes if they hang over the edge. Under there really, is only toys and stuffed animals. Under a teens bed, they think that there are books and magazines, while in reality, the items under the bed are more like week old sandwiches and dirty clothes. Under an adults bed, it i believed to be neat and clean. Guess again. The items under there consist of old recites or bills, possibly some clothes, and maybe the dog’s bone. Under an elderly person’s bed, is their dentures, and they most likely know that’s what is down there. Simply because they remember when they missed the rinsing cup a few nights ago and couldn’t bend down to get them.
Under the bridge made of stone lived a girl who was not very young nor very old. She enjoyed the spring when small blossoms would grown at the edge of the stream and in the moss like snow. She was dirty and blonde, but sweet and fair. She spoke softly and not often and usually braided her hair. One day in the summer when the stream was dry and the day hot a puppy joined her the bridge. The girl was scared of the dog having unhappy and somewhat painful relationships with the breed previously, so she back far away when the beast came near, but the puppy was rather obvious and mistakingly assumed the girl wished to play.
Under my feet the world stands firm.
under my hair my head works in mysterious ways.
It makes me believe, that the ground is shaking.
When in reality, the world has always been messed up.
We’re going under.
It was dark under the bridge, dark with shafts of pale diamond light streaming in from the low moon. In set the water gleaming with geometric squares of shimmery blue light and I thought that perhaps drowning was not as bad as it was made out to me.
under you,
under stars,
under trees,
above the world,
above me,
beloved,
above,
yet under.
When I see this word I think of hard times. When you’re under a lot of stress, a heavy blanket of doubt, uncertainty, or misfortune. But it also reminds me of resilience. After all, I am still here, and so is everyone else. We all go under, sometimes. But we always come back.
underwear is the most uncomfortable article of clothing that I forcibly wear. It’s nothing but a giant pain in the course of my day. Ahh, to dream of a World where no one had to wear underpants, is a World I can only pray for. I would frolic through the land without any underpants on. The breeze would feel delectable and would dance on my skin like the Native Americans did while chanting around an open campfire. It’s here I would find my sweet Delila and where I would marry her and live forever in my very own underwearless land.
I really need to stop thinking about sex all the time. Sure, it might be natural for somebody my age, but it is a bit disturbing. That being said, it is a bit funny how this word reminds me of it.
Under the covers, we lie. Wrapped together, leg over hips, head on chest, breath on cheek. You make me feel so safe.
under he table is my dog he is sleeping and its nice because she warms my feet and is a fine companion to me. soon she’ll get up and leave
Under and over and about and through. We’re still not sure where we are but we’re sure we’re going somewhere. How I long to live under the trees that we pass by everyday. I think there must be other worlds in there. Not like out here so open and light and dry.
underneath your clothes is a paradise I’ve not imagined. There are worlds I haven’t explored, new tastes that I’ve not yet had the pleasure of balancing on my tongue.
under makes me think of trolls under a bridge. Under also makes me think of Rihannah under her umberella ella ella ay ay ay. It also makes me think og a bucket under a cow but i think thats cos it looks like “udder”.
My skin.. Where most people dwell for the the sole purpose of “popcorn”.. One day I’ll scratch hard enough to make them bleed, not me..
She thought of the world under the bed. How interesting that monsters should live there! She shivered and shuddered as she lowered herself to the floor. but saw nothing.
Disappointed, she began to get up but was dragged under by clawed hands.
Under the bridge, across the river, through thee wood and to grandmaws house she was headed. It was dark and cold, but she wasn’t scared. She had done this before.
Under . I was under him. Struggling. Fighting for my breath. ‘Stop’ I tried to scream, but my mouth was suddenly filled with the taste of salt, his filthy ,disgusting hand covered my mouth. My fear heightened. How was I getting out? Help. Please. Is what I thought. But who could help? Tears of anger and frustration filled my eyes. Yet I couldn’t let him see. Couldn’t let him know how he got in how he affected me.
cat hair
toenail clippings
three pennies and two dimes
a green tic tac and a pink pez
a cherry chapstick and a white wine cork and a puzzle piece in blue
two rumors
three dirty secrets
the truth behind Uncle Moe’s incarceration
the contents of my teenage diaries
So many things swept under the rug
I decided to leave them in peace
Underneath the sky. With the stars shining brightly, twinkling. The only light source. But it seemed so far away. Too far. Much too far. How can I strive to get to the light if it’s so far? Tiny pinpricks swallowed by the endless black sky.
It was under the sky at night. Beautiful, the stars shining and shimmering. Her shadow mingled with his, blurring into one big mass of dark. But she wasn’t thinking about the dark. She was thinking about the light, and all the opportunities it would bring. No more hatred. No more pain. She was happy. And the stars glistened with approval.
under the bridge. I keep thinking of that phrase. Maybe it’s how I feel. Under, down, below, burdened? Does that even correlate? I’m not sure. Under