i’m just so tired.
bucket, bucket of tears poured down her face.
no, i don’t think that’s right.
maybe the bucket was used to cleanse the soul and body.
bucket.
bucket.
Ollie
this lady i worked with always said she liked my bucket referring to an ice bucket i used to fill a soda dispensers ice well. Her Name was Lisa and she’s a little crazy.
nono
There was a yellow bucket sitting at the end of the hall. Peering in there was murky water with mud splattered around the edges. I picked it up to take it out seeing that it was staining the carpet. A snail fell out. I don’t like snails but I picked it up and threw it against the wall…
Jo
haff a bucket struck my lucky mucked up fun banana chunder hum drum my loam chum. kick a fisky one if you want this much fun.
gabi
Ok this is the very first writing. and now i want to check what other have written in there page… i was looking for photograpy related web sites. technics and accessories .
Datfa
the bucket was on top of gary’s head, and i had to tell myself to run because at that moment i was trying not to laugh it was like having a bursting bladder and no toilet in sight. i just had to. but I saw his face and knew I would die if I didn’t.
Alysha
I keep all I own in a bucket and at night I hang it down from my roof for others to put things in. I’ve come to have an interesting collection thus far. People are so generous.
Zachary Casciato
rain drops fall into the bucket, making subtle, soft noises as they clash against the rusting bowl, holding them in, storing them, slowly rising to a puddle of beauty. the cold refreshing, raw taste of rain swirling around in circles, slowly, beautifully.
Sara
i saw the blue bucket from far away, just swaying there after it drops and latters to the ground. Prank successful!! i yell, grinning not being able to believe it.
Alysha
I had a bucket full of hope, one that’s spilled along my life. As a child, every day was a day filled with laughter and joy. It’s always something I looked forward to. But now, as I grew older, I hadn’t realize how hopeless I’ve become. I didn’t know how less hope I’ve given to others, and how I don’t expect anything anymore. That little remaining hope is left to sustain my breathing days. My living will, and that little bit of hope is easily evaporated.
Now I carry, a bucket, a bucket full of sorrow. It doesn’t get spilled as I walk down the usual paths. It gets fuller, and more- it’s overflowing to my legs. It travels to the thighs, to the stomach and the collarbone. My heart, my lips and my very being. It’s consuming everything I own, all that I want yet don’t have. That sorrow has been molded, and molded. Now it’s me.
Zeoru
Silver and daunting it stared back at me from the table. A bucket. It looked like any other bucket really, but at this point in time I knew it was not. This bucket had something in it that no other bucket in the world did. Something I didn’t quite want to see, but I
Chris
Its raining now. buckets.. thats what i need to store away some water. thats what we used to do in our home town… save water. there used to be several buckets full of water every season outside our door. we made sure we saved as much as we could. it felt better using that saved water than what came to us through taps…
Mili
Buckets are great. You can use a bucket to put many things, not just water and dirty clothes for washing. but they’re incredibly inconvenient to lug around! Try putting one in a Rickshaw and bringing
abha
the silver bucket had fallen over, the milk spilled leaking onto the grass. The dirt was darkened in that area, and flies were circling around the bucket. The animals were gone, only footprints were left.
Buckets of strawberries sitting on the back porch step. These are the kind of snap-shot memories out of somebody else’s life. Someone with a grandmother in the countryside who would bake them warm pies in the summer afternoons.
Robin
The bucket was the only thing that seemed to keep Daniel grounded anymore. He had taken to carrying it around with him, to cradling it in his arms in a dark corner with his lantern out, willing the frightening apparition lurching down the hall to go away. With the Shadow pursuing him and breaking down reality, the bucket helped to soothe him, to give him something real and tangible to focus on. It helped, just a little, to keep his head about him. He murmured softly as he could to it, stroked its smooth tin sides and turned it over in his hands, trying to block out the growling and moaning of the slack-jawed creature that was too stupid to find him huddling in the dark, but too smart to leave the area and let Daniel be in peace.
He carried a chewed up bucket with him as he slogged through the tidepools, but he didn’t pick anything up. Instead, he took something from the bucket and sprinkled it over the hiding anemones, and they bloomed.
Oh how I wish there was a bucket around before I decided to puke all over myself on my bed that very first night in my new apartment. There just is never a bucket when you need it apparently and there is always someone on the toilet when you need it. Murphy is a dick and I hate his law’s, all I needed was a bucket in these scenarios where the toilet was occupied and I would still have a few great outfits.
one word is only the beginning while the second word is about the start of something about to happen. The sentence begins to take shape with the third and fourth and fifth word and by the time you’ve reached the twelfth you’ve a complete thought.
Richard
Buckets are used for mops. Buckets are used to carry things. I’d kick the bucket with him. But of course that could never happen because he doesn’t feel the same. I wonder if it’ll always be this way. Me always wanting someone who doesn’t love me back.
Samantha
Rage
Blueberries
Happiness
Love
Jack
Dream
Sweet
Amazing
Grateful
Amazing
Valiant
Noble
Charming
Chivalrous
Depressing
Gorgeous
Handsome
Isabella
I wanted to live in a bucket when I was young. i thought it would be so cool and fun. I could even invite people round and then play games and discuss bucket types and colours. What fun that would be, ay? What about you? Would you like to live in a bucket?
Paul Clare
I’ve already written about you, Mr. Bucket. I wrote about your incessant need to be filled with water, and how I always have to bring you out to scrub the crayon hieroglyphics that were drawn by the four-year-old. Thanks, but no thanks.
Bucket. Such a basic word. One that we don’t often use in everyday life, unless we are scrubbing down the walls of our home that a 4 year old drew on, even though we always hide the crayons on the top of the fridge.
Torin Alexander Russell
the lid to the tin can was sawn off by members of the angry mob. as they peered in, i lay mangled at the bottom caressing my bucket selfishly. reaching in the grab me and take my precious bucket away and sadden i lay at the bottom moping for my lost bucket
Joey Babz
a bucket full of something that fit in the bucket. with the bucket as a holder. the bucket stay still while something inside the bucket trying to get out. the bucket glowing. becoming hotter and hotter and hotter while the time passess by. no one know why. no one knows where. no one knows when. the bucket stay still.
arif
A drop in the bucket. That expression has always been so depressing to me. The truth is, if I am only at the beginning, I don’t want to know that I am that far away. I would rather live in blissful ignorance from my daunting task that requires many drops.
Madison
I use a bucket when I mop the floors. I put my favorite cleaning supplies in the bucket along with some hot water. One of my favorites supplies is pine sol. I have a habit of forgetting to empty my bucket and my son has kicked the bucket a few times.
Rhachelle Johnson
The bucket of tears couldn’t contain any more of my pity party’s eye vomit. I couldn’t control it. I hadn’t cried. I would almost swear I never had, but somehow my dry eyes of yesterday are ready to tell stories of when their streams were full as my memory is now vast and empty.
Dump me over hot coals but I’m empty. Looking for water as the fire grows, getting out of control now but water is no where to be found. Wait! I can see a pool but it’s too far… won’t get there in time with my bucket as the heat nips at my heel.
Adam Anton
there once was a ninja from nantucket who kept all his swords in a bucket he started to spin and exclaimed with a grin “when I let this think go, you best duck it.” i love buckets <3
Hide
So I made a bucket list recently. And I’m serious about it. It’s going to open up opportunities, and let me explore the world, and the other side of us. If there is one. We’ll only find out.
Esha Hegde
I couldn’t help but stop along the way to fill up my bucket. I just wanted to drink. There was no water, so my bucket would remain empty.
I reached for the blue bucket that was on the floor. I threw up in it, as I sat on your lap in your friends basement. It was then, that I realized I was about to lose my virginity to a total stranger….
Ana
I wanted some water, but my bucket was empty. I wanted to drink, I was thirsty and tired. But my bucket was empty, & it stayed that way.
Destiny
i have a large bucket of water. i walk down the hill with the bucket everyday to fill it with water. i play all the way back up the hill and by the time i have made it home it is half empty again. do I do this on purpose to waist time or do i do this because i am careless?
James
She milked the cow until she got a bucket of milk. That was enough for today to feed the family. Slowly, she placed her hands on the handle of the bucket and rose up from the ground. The sun was shining brightly, so she squinted her eyes as she marched towards her cottage. Alcide and Jess were watching her from the living room’s window.
Aisha Momand
I’m at the beach. My toes are submerged in the hot sand. The bright sun is beating down on me. Next to me, a small child with a lopsided grin on his face is packing sand in a red bucket. I lean back, at peace with the world for a small second. When my eyes flutter back open, the first think I see is the boy dumping out the sand but instead of making a sand castle, it crumbles down like a lifeless body. It crumbled just like my world did when I lost my mom…
When I visited New Orleans for my cousin’s graduation, the thing that I had been looking forward to was eating a bucketful of crawfish. Their bright red shells and the smell of the salty brine of the ocean mixed with cajun spices never fails to make my mouth water.
don’t kick the bucket.
i’m just so tired.
bucket, bucket of tears poured down her face.
no, i don’t think that’s right.
maybe the bucket was used to cleanse the soul and body.
bucket.
bucket.
this lady i worked with always said she liked my bucket referring to an ice bucket i used to fill a soda dispensers ice well. Her Name was Lisa and she’s a little crazy.
There was a yellow bucket sitting at the end of the hall. Peering in there was murky water with mud splattered around the edges. I picked it up to take it out seeing that it was staining the carpet. A snail fell out. I don’t like snails but I picked it up and threw it against the wall…
haff a bucket struck my lucky mucked up fun banana chunder hum drum my loam chum. kick a fisky one if you want this much fun.
Ok this is the very first writing. and now i want to check what other have written in there page… i was looking for photograpy related web sites. technics and accessories .
the bucket was on top of gary’s head, and i had to tell myself to run because at that moment i was trying not to laugh it was like having a bursting bladder and no toilet in sight. i just had to. but I saw his face and knew I would die if I didn’t.
I keep all I own in a bucket and at night I hang it down from my roof for others to put things in. I’ve come to have an interesting collection thus far. People are so generous.
rain drops fall into the bucket, making subtle, soft noises as they clash against the rusting bowl, holding them in, storing them, slowly rising to a puddle of beauty. the cold refreshing, raw taste of rain swirling around in circles, slowly, beautifully.
i saw the blue bucket from far away, just swaying there after it drops and latters to the ground. Prank successful!! i yell, grinning not being able to believe it.
I had a bucket full of hope, one that’s spilled along my life. As a child, every day was a day filled with laughter and joy. It’s always something I looked forward to. But now, as I grew older, I hadn’t realize how hopeless I’ve become. I didn’t know how less hope I’ve given to others, and how I don’t expect anything anymore. That little remaining hope is left to sustain my breathing days. My living will, and that little bit of hope is easily evaporated.
Now I carry, a bucket, a bucket full of sorrow. It doesn’t get spilled as I walk down the usual paths. It gets fuller, and more- it’s overflowing to my legs. It travels to the thighs, to the stomach and the collarbone. My heart, my lips and my very being. It’s consuming everything I own, all that I want yet don’t have. That sorrow has been molded, and molded. Now it’s me.
Silver and daunting it stared back at me from the table. A bucket. It looked like any other bucket really, but at this point in time I knew it was not. This bucket had something in it that no other bucket in the world did. Something I didn’t quite want to see, but I
Its raining now. buckets.. thats what i need to store away some water. thats what we used to do in our home town… save water. there used to be several buckets full of water every season outside our door. we made sure we saved as much as we could. it felt better using that saved water than what came to us through taps…
Buckets are great. You can use a bucket to put many things, not just water and dirty clothes for washing. but they’re incredibly inconvenient to lug around! Try putting one in a Rickshaw and bringing
the silver bucket had fallen over, the milk spilled leaking onto the grass. The dirt was darkened in that area, and flies were circling around the bucket. The animals were gone, only footprints were left.
Bucket, bucket, bucket…..
Where for art thou bucket?
HERE BUCKET-BUCKET-BUCKET!
Buckets of strawberries sitting on the back porch step. These are the kind of snap-shot memories out of somebody else’s life. Someone with a grandmother in the countryside who would bake them warm pies in the summer afternoons.
The bucket was the only thing that seemed to keep Daniel grounded anymore. He had taken to carrying it around with him, to cradling it in his arms in a dark corner with his lantern out, willing the frightening apparition lurching down the hall to go away. With the Shadow pursuing him and breaking down reality, the bucket helped to soothe him, to give him something real and tangible to focus on. It helped, just a little, to keep his head about him. He murmured softly as he could to it, stroked its smooth tin sides and turned it over in his hands, trying to block out the growling and moaning of the slack-jawed creature that was too stupid to find him huddling in the dark, but too smart to leave the area and let Daniel be in peace.
He carried a chewed up bucket with him as he slogged through the tidepools, but he didn’t pick anything up. Instead, he took something from the bucket and sprinkled it over the hiding anemones, and they bloomed.
Oh how I wish there was a bucket around before I decided to puke all over myself on my bed that very first night in my new apartment. There just is never a bucket when you need it apparently and there is always someone on the toilet when you need it. Murphy is a dick and I hate his law’s, all I needed was a bucket in these scenarios where the toilet was occupied and I would still have a few great outfits.
one word is only the beginning while the second word is about the start of something about to happen. The sentence begins to take shape with the third and fourth and fifth word and by the time you’ve reached the twelfth you’ve a complete thought.
Buckets are used for mops. Buckets are used to carry things. I’d kick the bucket with him. But of course that could never happen because he doesn’t feel the same. I wonder if it’ll always be this way. Me always wanting someone who doesn’t love me back.
Rage
Blueberries
Happiness
Love
Jack
Dream
Sweet
Amazing
Grateful
Amazing
Valiant
Noble
Charming
Chivalrous
Depressing
Gorgeous
Handsome
I wanted to live in a bucket when I was young. i thought it would be so cool and fun. I could even invite people round and then play games and discuss bucket types and colours. What fun that would be, ay? What about you? Would you like to live in a bucket?
I’ve already written about you, Mr. Bucket. I wrote about your incessant need to be filled with water, and how I always have to bring you out to scrub the crayon hieroglyphics that were drawn by the four-year-old. Thanks, but no thanks.
Bucket. Such a basic word. One that we don’t often use in everyday life, unless we are scrubbing down the walls of our home that a 4 year old drew on, even though we always hide the crayons on the top of the fridge.
the lid to the tin can was sawn off by members of the angry mob. as they peered in, i lay mangled at the bottom caressing my bucket selfishly. reaching in the grab me and take my precious bucket away and sadden i lay at the bottom moping for my lost bucket
a bucket full of something that fit in the bucket. with the bucket as a holder. the bucket stay still while something inside the bucket trying to get out. the bucket glowing. becoming hotter and hotter and hotter while the time passess by. no one know why. no one knows where. no one knows when. the bucket stay still.
A drop in the bucket. That expression has always been so depressing to me. The truth is, if I am only at the beginning, I don’t want to know that I am that far away. I would rather live in blissful ignorance from my daunting task that requires many drops.
I use a bucket when I mop the floors. I put my favorite cleaning supplies in the bucket along with some hot water. One of my favorites supplies is pine sol. I have a habit of forgetting to empty my bucket and my son has kicked the bucket a few times.
The bucket of tears couldn’t contain any more of my pity party’s eye vomit. I couldn’t control it. I hadn’t cried. I would almost swear I never had, but somehow my dry eyes of yesterday are ready to tell stories of when their streams were full as my memory is now vast and empty.
Dump me over hot coals but I’m empty. Looking for water as the fire grows, getting out of control now but water is no where to be found. Wait! I can see a pool but it’s too far… won’t get there in time with my bucket as the heat nips at my heel.
there once was a ninja from nantucket who kept all his swords in a bucket he started to spin and exclaimed with a grin “when I let this think go, you best duck it.” i love buckets <3
So I made a bucket list recently. And I’m serious about it. It’s going to open up opportunities, and let me explore the world, and the other side of us. If there is one. We’ll only find out.
I couldn’t help but stop along the way to fill up my bucket. I just wanted to drink. There was no water, so my bucket would remain empty.
I reached for the blue bucket that was on the floor. I threw up in it, as I sat on your lap in your friends basement. It was then, that I realized I was about to lose my virginity to a total stranger….
I wanted some water, but my bucket was empty. I wanted to drink, I was thirsty and tired. But my bucket was empty, & it stayed that way.
i have a large bucket of water. i walk down the hill with the bucket everyday to fill it with water. i play all the way back up the hill and by the time i have made it home it is half empty again. do I do this on purpose to waist time or do i do this because i am careless?
She milked the cow until she got a bucket of milk. That was enough for today to feed the family. Slowly, she placed her hands on the handle of the bucket and rose up from the ground. The sun was shining brightly, so she squinted her eyes as she marched towards her cottage. Alcide and Jess were watching her from the living room’s window.
I’m at the beach. My toes are submerged in the hot sand. The bright sun is beating down on me. Next to me, a small child with a lopsided grin on his face is packing sand in a red bucket. I lean back, at peace with the world for a small second. When my eyes flutter back open, the first think I see is the boy dumping out the sand but instead of making a sand castle, it crumbles down like a lifeless body. It crumbled just like my world did when I lost my mom…
When I visited New Orleans for my cousin’s graduation, the thing that I had been looking forward to was eating a bucketful of crawfish. Their bright red shells and the smell of the salty brine of the ocean mixed with cajun spices never fails to make my mouth water.