fences are fun. funny fences for me. five funny fences. fun for me.
Cody
i have alot of fences i have them all around my house some are chain link others are log some are picket and some are bar fences fences are awsome. so yayuuuuuuuuu o like fences i dont know wat it really is gonna nevermind im bored cause i dont know wat to say so BYBY PEOPLE!!!!!!!!!!
jdog
what is in mexico and i have to jump it when i want to see my family
cayle
If you put a spike on top of it and tell people to jump it then you can watch a person jump on a spike fence. Like a dog named shadow who hung himself. Bad memories :( .
I see a lot of fences. I learned the spanish word for fence a few days ago in spanish. I don’t remember what it is. If I saw it, I would recognize it though.
They keep me boxed in and bound;
Boarders to control and boarders to hold
I look through the gaps to an unbound world,
and wonder, in this yard can I even grow?
Sometimes I believe I’m better than this fence,
that I can go beyond its scrupulous ends;
with a single leap, and a single bound,
I say goodbye to my encasement, to
Embrace a world outside of this placement;
I bid adieu to disappointing, white facade faces;
jumping beyond a life, of white picket fences.
But alas I’m still boxed and bound…
to a life of fences, to a life of minimal ground;
all for the smiling facade, of the white picket fences.
Reality of a broken, warped, decaying brown fence.
Běžely jsme. Před námi se objevily ploty. Nemohli jsme utíkat dál. Měli jsme strach. Vašek se najednou rozběhl a vyšplhal se přes plot. Tohle jsem zvládl taky, horší byl ten plot za tím. Ani to nebyl plot, ale vysoká holá zeď. Nedalo se nikde zachytit.
it’s what separates us,
what creates his
and hers
and theirs
and ours
and contradictions the notion
that we learned as kids
that “sharing is a good thing.”
heh, maybe august wilson was right.
there are fences in the mind
fences that cordon off my thoughts
forming compartments for people
places
things
separating ideas
dividing possibilities
sometimes I wonder what my life would be like
without fences
He hurled himself over the fences. One by one, he would cross the back yard in four, sometimes three, leaps and clamber up the rotting wood or chain linked walls, that separated each property from the next. Each fence put distance between him and the runners. His lungs ached and his eyes burned with rage as he tried to hold the salty fluid from flowing freely from barriers of his eye lids. And when the subdivision ended and he reached the dump site, only then did he sink to the ground, and let himself cry in between the rotting compost and plastic bags of junk as he unfurled his black, broken wings. He swore as his scapular lurched with pain, and cringed as he ran his fingers over the blood soaked feathers. Kneeling in the moonlight, his head bowed and his wings spread and bent, he almost looked like a broken angel in the inky night. But he almost laughed at this thought. You can’t be broken if there was never anything good about you in the first place.
When I imagine myself, which I do often but not in some conceited way, I tend to imagine myself as two parts with a fence seperating myself. On one side of the fence is who I am on the outside. What I let be seen by others. The act I put on for the world. The happy little girl. But on the other side of that fence, well there is me. There is who I really am, the person who can barley handle what has happened to her in the past and who has taken in all the hurt the world has served her, the girl who hates herself. The girl who hates every single thing about herself. The girl who is disgusted by her own skin, who wishes nothing more than to slice all of her flesh away, the girl who wishes nothing more than to end.
when i hear fences i remember the times i would look out my window and seeing the old fences on my way to my grandpas house…i remember the trees behind the old fenses
fences are barriers. hypothetical barriers. Just like i have fences in my head because their are things I want to keep in. Fences don’t only keep stuff out. they keep stuff in, like dogs and children. I like white picket fences. I hope to live in a house with a white picket fence one day
Fences are for keeping things in or out, they go around. Up hills and down into valleys. I’ve never been fond of the electric variety, but I suppose if we’d had one the whole mess with Bertha the cow could have been avoided.
jmd
“I just don’t get why you like that story so much.” “Well, what’s not to like?” I asked. “There’s true love, miracles, death, despair, redemption, action…” I shrugged. It’s got a little bit of everything. Mike scoffed. “It’s a glorified romantic comedy.” “What?! You’re crazy. Have you even read the part when Westley fences Inigo. It’s killer and hardly romantic.”
Nikki
building fences for animals on the farm to keep the animals in so they don’t run away.
smile
not a gate, just something around it, it keeps you from going somewhere, it can be either blue, white, yellow, orange, black, green, brown, purple, red or any other colour
Dorien
We use to paint our farm fences. It would take days to paint them all over the property. There were so many of them.
Mrs. Palm
When I think of fences I remember back to when I was a child on the farm. We had white fences everywhere.
Mrs. Palm
It felt like she was surrounded by fences. Every thought she had, every dream, every wish, she’d suddenly run smack into a mental wall that blocked her from going any further in that direction. As if someone had considered her thoughts to be a pack of wild horses that they could perhaps tame, if only they kept her thoughts corralled long enough.
Jessica
the fence keeps me caged. i will never escape this horrible prison.
Im going to go fencing this week. It means too make a fence or go stab someone with a sword but its not sharp so don’t worry. But my sword is sharp so watch out hehehehehehehe :)
fences are fun. funny fences for me. five funny fences. fun for me.
i have alot of fences i have them all around my house some are chain link others are log some are picket and some are bar fences fences are awsome. so yayuuuuuuuuu o like fences i dont know wat it really is gonna nevermind im bored cause i dont know wat to say so BYBY PEOPLE!!!!!!!!!!
what is in mexico and i have to jump it when i want to see my family
If you put a spike on top of it and tell people to jump it then you can watch a person jump on a spike fence. Like a dog named shadow who hung himself. Bad memories :( .
fences are wood that boarder an area for things to keep out.
Oh my gosh!!!!!!!!!! I’m in a mad and angry mood today!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I see a lot of fences. I learned the spanish word for fence a few days ago in spanish. I don’t remember what it is. If I saw it, I would recognize it though.
I got cut by a barbed wire fence before.
Fences are things that keep thing from getting into your yard.
fences are to keep people out which is a good thing.
fences are jewish… they r jewish becaues they r jewish….who ever made fences are weaird……there jewish
They keep me boxed in and bound;
Boarders to control and boarders to hold
I look through the gaps to an unbound world,
and wonder, in this yard can I even grow?
Sometimes I believe I’m better than this fence,
that I can go beyond its scrupulous ends;
with a single leap, and a single bound,
I say goodbye to my encasement, to
Embrace a world outside of this placement;
I bid adieu to disappointing, white facade faces;
jumping beyond a life, of white picket fences.
But alas I’m still boxed and bound…
to a life of fences, to a life of minimal ground;
all for the smiling facade, of the white picket fences.
Reality of a broken, warped, decaying brown fence.
The fences in my neighborhood are all around the houses. No fences in just the back yard.
Běžely jsme. Před námi se objevily ploty. Nemohli jsme utíkat dál. Měli jsme strach. Vašek se najednou rozběhl a vyšplhal se přes plot. Tohle jsem zvládl taky, horší byl ten plot za tím. Ani to nebyl plot, ale vysoká holá zeď. Nedalo se nikde zachytit.
it’s what separates us,
what creates his
and hers
and theirs
and ours
and contradictions the notion
that we learned as kids
that “sharing is a good thing.”
heh, maybe august wilson was right.
there are fences in the mind
fences that cordon off my thoughts
forming compartments for people
places
things
separating ideas
dividing possibilities
sometimes I wonder what my life would be like
without fences
He hurled himself over the fences. One by one, he would cross the back yard in four, sometimes three, leaps and clamber up the rotting wood or chain linked walls, that separated each property from the next. Each fence put distance between him and the runners. His lungs ached and his eyes burned with rage as he tried to hold the salty fluid from flowing freely from barriers of his eye lids. And when the subdivision ended and he reached the dump site, only then did he sink to the ground, and let himself cry in between the rotting compost and plastic bags of junk as he unfurled his black, broken wings. He swore as his scapular lurched with pain, and cringed as he ran his fingers over the blood soaked feathers. Kneeling in the moonlight, his head bowed and his wings spread and bent, he almost looked like a broken angel in the inky night. But he almost laughed at this thought. You can’t be broken if there was never anything good about you in the first place.
When I imagine myself, which I do often but not in some conceited way, I tend to imagine myself as two parts with a fence seperating myself. On one side of the fence is who I am on the outside. What I let be seen by others. The act I put on for the world. The happy little girl. But on the other side of that fence, well there is me. There is who I really am, the person who can barley handle what has happened to her in the past and who has taken in all the hurt the world has served her, the girl who hates herself. The girl who hates every single thing about herself. The girl who is disgusted by her own skin, who wishes nothing more than to slice all of her flesh away, the girl who wishes nothing more than to end.
i got a fence in the bakcyard for my dog
when i hear fences i remember the times i would look out my window and seeing the old fences on my way to my grandpas house…i remember the trees behind the old fenses
fences remind me of being secure and sometimes trapped
usually something to block or close something like in a park they have fences so thats what I think fences are like
fences are the things that keep my dog out and he doesnt like it because he wants to roam because he hates us
Jacob mills likes to hop fences. He runs away from his mom when she is mad at him. He hurrases her in many ways
Hold animals or living things that need to be lock up or hold so they don’t run away
so they can take care of them safely.
fence is a cage for dog or something people have around there yard so animals cant get in or out .
i see a lot of fences every day my scool has a little bit of fences
somthing that stops a dog from geting out.
fences are barriers. hypothetical barriers. Just like i have fences in my head because their are things I want to keep in. Fences don’t only keep stuff out. they keep stuff in, like dogs and children. I like white picket fences. I hope to live in a house with a white picket fence one day
Fences are for keeping things in or out, they go around. Up hills and down into valleys. I’ve never been fond of the electric variety, but I suppose if we’d had one the whole mess with Bertha the cow could have been avoided.
“I just don’t get why you like that story so much.” “Well, what’s not to like?” I asked. “There’s true love, miracles, death, despair, redemption, action…” I shrugged. It’s got a little bit of everything. Mike scoffed. “It’s a glorified romantic comedy.” “What?! You’re crazy. Have you even read the part when Westley fences Inigo. It’s killer and hardly romantic.”
building fences for animals on the farm to keep the animals in so they don’t run away.
not a gate, just something around it, it keeps you from going somewhere, it can be either blue, white, yellow, orange, black, green, brown, purple, red or any other colour
We use to paint our farm fences. It would take days to paint them all over the property. There were so many of them.
When I think of fences I remember back to when I was a child on the farm. We had white fences everywhere.
It felt like she was surrounded by fences. Every thought she had, every dream, every wish, she’d suddenly run smack into a mental wall that blocked her from going any further in that direction. As if someone had considered her thoughts to be a pack of wild horses that they could perhaps tame, if only they kept her thoughts corralled long enough.
the fence keeps me caged. i will never escape this horrible prison.
Im going to go fencing this week. It means too make a fence or go stab someone with a sword but its not sharp so don’t worry. But my sword is sharp so watch out hehehehehehehe :)
There are all kinds of fences around my house……
There are a lot of fences in my neighborhood. Some of the fences are knocked down.