Shelter. What are we without it? What is it that you need shelter from, exactly?
Why yes, Mother Nature’s harsh mood swings can be quite damaging.
Erica Loren
On houses on my house every huse on thre street yay rain prtotestcor
Deja
on the roof there sat a small black cat, waiting for passing birds to alight on a nearby telephone wire. waiting to pounce, waiting to fall.
bella
On my houseevery wgere on the street rain protector chimneys
Deja
The roof leaks a light and the light reminds me of what I’ve maybe missed by settling in this small town that I’ve known since I was a babe. I stare at the hole in the night and my eyes burn. Did I miss it? I’m still young and able to love a life that’s different… I do hope. I eat my lips in an attempt to make the vision vanish. I do love the light. It gives me hope, but it also reminds me of reality.
i’ll run away to a high place
a place far away from all people
i want to put a distance between me
and everything
anything that makes me feel bad
so yeah.
everything.
i want to get away.
I’m on the top of the roof, twenty feet up. It feels as if I could touch the sky if I just stretched up my fingertips. I’m nervous and afraid, but I’ve never wanted so badly to fly. My feet are hanging over the edge, and all it will take is one step to fall over. The sensation would be amazing, a feeling of control. To choose what I want to do. But I decide to save it for another day. I turn my back to the sky, and make my way back to the safety of the ground.
Something that is over my head; something that those less unfortunate than I beg for, but instead they have something like a bridge or a box. Sadness, sadness, sadness they must feel, not able to come home to something wonderful and safe that we are so greedy to take advantage of.
Chelsea
I here the cold rain hitting hard into the slanted roof. It reminds me of the days when I was a child and would sit for as long as a storm lasted watching the bright veins trace across the sky and hearing the thunder crack like a shooting gun.
Emily Bruss
Let’s climb up on top of the roof and stare at the stars together.
There was a kitten who perched on the roof of it’s owners as if it were it’s throne. It yearned for a life of adventure, looming in the trenches of rain gutters
Ariel
A place of freedom where the skies and the air rules, where the horizon meets the daybreak. Where i can be a bird or any creature of the wind. I can be the wind’s prophetess and well, I could sing its song from up there. And during t
Mitchie
Standing up on the roof so high, I stared and stared at the starry skies. Not knowing what is to come, not caring where I came from. All the thoughts that consumed my mind are slowly fading with the time. The longer I stare the more I become aware. Standing up on the roof so high, I stared and stared at the starry skies.
We sat on the roof pondering the new beginnings of our lives as we were on the top of the world. We gazed into the horizon and watched the sun light bounce off everything in our sights as it slowly disappeared into the earths caress. We sat, we spoke, we loved and soaked in the warmth of the sun and each other.
When I was a kid, my bedroom window looked out onto a roof at the back of our house. One day I was helping my Dad as he was re-decorating my room. I felt sad for no reason, something that happened to me a lot then. I said “Dad, I don’t want you to die” I fought back tears, surprised and embarrassed at my own honesty. “Where will you go?”
He smiled. He took a bucket of wallpaper scraps he had peeled from the walls. “What happens if I burn these?”
“They turn to ash’, I said.
“True. And if I throw the ash out onto the roof?”
“It gets washed away”, I said, gazing at the thin rain falling outside.
“Where to?”, he asked.
“To the streams and rivers and down to the sea,” I said.
He was still smiling. I turned away and through my tears I watched the rain fall, slow and steady down the window pane, and away.
Reaching for the stars is hard when glass ceilings get you down
I place my palms against the roof, my screaming makes no sound
Trapped trapped trapped trapped trapped trapped trapped trapped
when I think of roof i think of fidler on the roof. reason being i am jewish. speaking of which hannukah is coming up and i dont really want anything. the reason i dont want anything is primarily because im still in debt and all ready feel like i have so much. speaking of which, that brings up the issue i recently had with marva. a lot of what i have going on here at work has to do with my priveleged
matt
Ceiling, covers from the rain, dripping. The sound of rain dripping into a metal bucket. The cold feeling of metal against skin.
Nora
I was sitting on the roof. I wasn’t sure why this night was different from all the other forlorn adventures, the wasted searches for epic tales to tell. In the back of my head, I knew it. It wasn’t any different. I needed change from my stagnant, safe life.
Hey! I already got this one! Screw this! I already told you I couldn’t think of anything. God. I thought this site was going to be awesome. Instead, there appears to only be one word. Hey! Ha! Now i get it! It’s oneword.com! Duh! Bye!
Brandon
The roof leaked. I can’t remember a time it didn’t. We’d place saucepans, jugs and watering cans strategically to catch the water during storms. I’d sink into my red, threadbare armchair by the stone fireplace and close my eyes, listening as the drip-drop-symphony played. The heavy rain seeped through the broken tiles, and each globule jumped from the ceiling into the targeted receptacle like a high-diver into a paddling pool. The low batter-batter on the roof became a bassline against the percussive doink, driip, driiip. The dynamics of the conducting rain speeded and slowed the tempo of the kitchen equipment band. Drop, gonk, driiip getting higher as the pots filled. Sitting there as I did, I’d forget about that damp room. The yellowy flicker of the fire would bleed through my eyelids and I’d forget about that cottage, slip-shod and beaten, and I’d drift on the rainy rhythms to someplace I’d rather be.
I was laying on the roof, watching the stars. My hands behind my head. My ankles crossed. The air was calm, but every now and then a nice soft breeze would come by and say hello. It was at this time that I realized I’ve never been more at ease.
I looked down from the top of the roof. It sure was a long way down.
“Don’t worry,” you said, wrapping your arms protectively around me. “I wont let you fall.”
I looked over ad smiled at you.
The girl placed the wood above her head. It was to keep her sheltered, to save her from the rain and sleet from outside. She felt safer with this roof on her head but she also more trapped than before. Because of this protection, the girl was unable to experience the good things from above, the sun and wind and sky. The girl stayed trapped under the safety of the roof, until she had the courage to feel both the good and bad again.
Hey its roof again now i dont know what to say sim kinda dissapointesd that my last thoughts were erased but well i dont have much ti say now i just feel kinda better of thinking automativslly without any fears i worry of how long will thath peacefulness will tlast i dont knowi
Sandra
We sat on top of the roof in the rain. I could see her mascara dripping from the rims of her eyes. I never understood why she had to wear makeup and mess with something that is already perfect. I constantly thought of how the world moved so quickly and how I couldn’t wait until I met the person who makes time stand still. And then I met her.
It was a very dark and warm night in the middle of august. The heat was still covering out bodies as we lay on the roof and watched the glistening stars. All we could hear was the sound of the crickets in the fields.
Joelle Warmbrunn
roofies
i love dem roofies
feeling all drugged up
the roof is ON FIAAAAAH
follow the leader woop woop
smoosh bang walla walla bing bang
my dog is on the roof
foor backwards
foor da happiness
DO IT FOOR DA HAPPINESS MAN
Sometimes he felt as if the world had an unending desire to prevent his success. To capture him, to cage him, to keep him from all his greatest wants. But such a roof could not hold his spirit.
Das Dach war rot und der Lack auf den Ziegeln reflektierte das Sonnenlicht. Der erste Sonnentag seit zwei Monaten. Nein, es hatte nicht geregnet, der Himmel war nicht wolkenverhangen gewesen, die Erde hatte sich nur so gedreht, dass wochenlang kein bisschen Sonnenlicht auf diesen Landstrich gefallen war. Fast alle Pflanzen waren verdorrt, auch die Nachtschattengewächse.
The roof for me depicts the limit. The roof of the house would be the first thing to come to mind however there is also the roof of limits. Of expectations, of happyness and of sadness. The roof also has a strange way which is “roofies”. Terrible thing.
“So this one time I was sitting on the roof a car saw me waving at it and hit a tree. I think i was sitting in a kiddie pool. Good times.”
All I could think about was how my own roof way much to steep for something as absurd as a kiddie pool. And how there were no cars on my street. I promised myself I would make this happen in the future, though.
Tori
It is what is on top of our homes. It is what protects us from the rain and the snow and the wind and the sun. This is what parents work for, to keep a roof over their kids heads, and food in their stomachs. I would never want to live without a roof over my head, but I also would not want to live by someone elses rules just because I am under their roof.
The roof was dry, but I still slipped on the tiles. His hand reached out to grab me, but he was just a few inches too short. I kept sliding, my hands grasping for anything to hold on. The edge was approaching quickly and I couldn’t stop.
I was going to sail through the roof, that’s how hyper I was. I was waiting for a jetpack to grow out of my spine and propel me upward, my head splintering the shingles like I was Willy Wonka driving the glass elevator out of the factory.
Too much sugar? No. I was just psyched. I had received the concert tickets yesterday, and I was ready to see one of the greatest bands ever. But who to go with?
Typically a structure on the top of a building. It provides a covering for a household or a structure that is used to get out of the elements. A famous movie was once made entitled Fiddler on the Roof and it was a great film! Despite being a very commonplace object, a roof is something that anything should be greatful to have.
Shelter. What are we without it? What is it that you need shelter from, exactly?
Why yes, Mother Nature’s harsh mood swings can be quite damaging.
On houses on my house every huse on thre street yay rain prtotestcor
on the roof there sat a small black cat, waiting for passing birds to alight on a nearby telephone wire. waiting to pounce, waiting to fall.
On my houseevery wgere on the street rain protector chimneys
The roof leaks a light and the light reminds me of what I’ve maybe missed by settling in this small town that I’ve known since I was a babe. I stare at the hole in the night and my eyes burn. Did I miss it? I’m still young and able to love a life that’s different… I do hope. I eat my lips in an attempt to make the vision vanish. I do love the light. It gives me hope, but it also reminds me of reality.
i’ll run away to a high place
a place far away from all people
i want to put a distance between me
and everything
anything that makes me feel bad
so yeah.
everything.
i want to get away.
I’m on the top of the roof, twenty feet up. It feels as if I could touch the sky if I just stretched up my fingertips. I’m nervous and afraid, but I’ve never wanted so badly to fly. My feet are hanging over the edge, and all it will take is one step to fall over. The sensation would be amazing, a feeling of control. To choose what I want to do. But I decide to save it for another day. I turn my back to the sky, and make my way back to the safety of the ground.
Something that is over my head; something that those less unfortunate than I beg for, but instead they have something like a bridge or a box. Sadness, sadness, sadness they must feel, not able to come home to something wonderful and safe that we are so greedy to take advantage of.
I here the cold rain hitting hard into the slanted roof. It reminds me of the days when I was a child and would sit for as long as a storm lasted watching the bright veins trace across the sky and hearing the thunder crack like a shooting gun.
Let’s climb up on top of the roof and stare at the stars together.
There was a kitten who perched on the roof of it’s owners as if it were it’s throne. It yearned for a life of adventure, looming in the trenches of rain gutters
A place of freedom where the skies and the air rules, where the horizon meets the daybreak. Where i can be a bird or any creature of the wind. I can be the wind’s prophetess and well, I could sing its song from up there. And during t
Standing up on the roof so high, I stared and stared at the starry skies. Not knowing what is to come, not caring where I came from. All the thoughts that consumed my mind are slowly fading with the time. The longer I stare the more I become aware. Standing up on the roof so high, I stared and stared at the starry skies.
We sat on the roof pondering the new beginnings of our lives as we were on the top of the world. We gazed into the horizon and watched the sun light bounce off everything in our sights as it slowly disappeared into the earths caress. We sat, we spoke, we loved and soaked in the warmth of the sun and each other.
When I was a kid, my bedroom window looked out onto a roof at the back of our house. One day I was helping my Dad as he was re-decorating my room. I felt sad for no reason, something that happened to me a lot then. I said “Dad, I don’t want you to die” I fought back tears, surprised and embarrassed at my own honesty. “Where will you go?”
He smiled. He took a bucket of wallpaper scraps he had peeled from the walls. “What happens if I burn these?”
“They turn to ash’, I said.
“True. And if I throw the ash out onto the roof?”
“It gets washed away”, I said, gazing at the thin rain falling outside.
“Where to?”, he asked.
“To the streams and rivers and down to the sea,” I said.
He was still smiling. I turned away and through my tears I watched the rain fall, slow and steady down the window pane, and away.
Reaching for the stars is hard when glass ceilings get you down
I place my palms against the roof, my screaming makes no sound
Trapped trapped trapped trapped trapped trapped trapped trapped
when I think of roof i think of fidler on the roof. reason being i am jewish. speaking of which hannukah is coming up and i dont really want anything. the reason i dont want anything is primarily because im still in debt and all ready feel like i have so much. speaking of which, that brings up the issue i recently had with marva. a lot of what i have going on here at work has to do with my priveleged
Ceiling, covers from the rain, dripping. The sound of rain dripping into a metal bucket. The cold feeling of metal against skin.
I was sitting on the roof. I wasn’t sure why this night was different from all the other forlorn adventures, the wasted searches for epic tales to tell. In the back of my head, I knew it. It wasn’t any different. I needed change from my stagnant, safe life.
Hey! I already got this one! Screw this! I already told you I couldn’t think of anything. God. I thought this site was going to be awesome. Instead, there appears to only be one word. Hey! Ha! Now i get it! It’s oneword.com! Duh! Bye!
The roof leaked. I can’t remember a time it didn’t. We’d place saucepans, jugs and watering cans strategically to catch the water during storms. I’d sink into my red, threadbare armchair by the stone fireplace and close my eyes, listening as the drip-drop-symphony played. The heavy rain seeped through the broken tiles, and each globule jumped from the ceiling into the targeted receptacle like a high-diver into a paddling pool. The low batter-batter on the roof became a bassline against the percussive doink, driip, driiip. The dynamics of the conducting rain speeded and slowed the tempo of the kitchen equipment band. Drop, gonk, driiip getting higher as the pots filled. Sitting there as I did, I’d forget about that damp room. The yellowy flicker of the fire would bleed through my eyelids and I’d forget about that cottage, slip-shod and beaten, and I’d drift on the rainy rhythms to someplace I’d rather be.
Round. Out. On. Floor.
I was laying on the roof, watching the stars. My hands behind my head. My ankles crossed. The air was calm, but every now and then a nice soft breeze would come by and say hello. It was at this time that I realized I’ve never been more at ease.
I looked down from the top of the roof. It sure was a long way down.
“Don’t worry,” you said, wrapping your arms protectively around me. “I wont let you fall.”
I looked over ad smiled at you.
roof roof. nothing to see here. What? that’s right. you heard me. blah.
seriously though, what am I supposed to write about a roof?
The girl placed the wood above her head. It was to keep her sheltered, to save her from the rain and sleet from outside. She felt safer with this roof on her head but she also more trapped than before. Because of this protection, the girl was unable to experience the good things from above, the sun and wind and sky. The girl stayed trapped under the safety of the roof, until she had the courage to feel both the good and bad again.
Hey its roof again now i dont know what to say sim kinda dissapointesd that my last thoughts were erased but well i dont have much ti say now i just feel kinda better of thinking automativslly without any fears i worry of how long will thath peacefulness will tlast i dont knowi
We sat on top of the roof in the rain. I could see her mascara dripping from the rims of her eyes. I never understood why she had to wear makeup and mess with something that is already perfect. I constantly thought of how the world moved so quickly and how I couldn’t wait until I met the person who makes time stand still. And then I met her.
It was a very dark and warm night in the middle of august. The heat was still covering out bodies as we lay on the roof and watched the glistening stars. All we could hear was the sound of the crickets in the fields.
roofies
i love dem roofies
feeling all drugged up
the roof is ON FIAAAAAH
follow the leader woop woop
smoosh bang walla walla bing bang
my dog is on the roof
foor backwards
foor da happiness
DO IT FOOR DA HAPPINESS MAN
if i don’t think so hard.
i thought.
i wouldn’t be so thoughtful.
i looked down. smiled.
carefully ran my toe along the edge.
“this roof seems a hot” she said.
then we both looked down.
it’s exactly how we wanted it to be.
Sometimes he felt as if the world had an unending desire to prevent his success. To capture him, to cage him, to keep him from all his greatest wants. But such a roof could not hold his spirit.
Das Dach war rot und der Lack auf den Ziegeln reflektierte das Sonnenlicht. Der erste Sonnentag seit zwei Monaten. Nein, es hatte nicht geregnet, der Himmel war nicht wolkenverhangen gewesen, die Erde hatte sich nur so gedreht, dass wochenlang kein bisschen Sonnenlicht auf diesen Landstrich gefallen war. Fast alle Pflanzen waren verdorrt, auch die Nachtschattengewächse.
The roof for me depicts the limit. The roof of the house would be the first thing to come to mind however there is also the roof of limits. Of expectations, of happyness and of sadness. The roof also has a strange way which is “roofies”. Terrible thing.
“So this one time I was sitting on the roof a car saw me waving at it and hit a tree. I think i was sitting in a kiddie pool. Good times.”
All I could think about was how my own roof way much to steep for something as absurd as a kiddie pool. And how there were no cars on my street. I promised myself I would make this happen in the future, though.
It is what is on top of our homes. It is what protects us from the rain and the snow and the wind and the sun. This is what parents work for, to keep a roof over their kids heads, and food in their stomachs. I would never want to live without a roof over my head, but I also would not want to live by someone elses rules just because I am under their roof.
The roof was dry, but I still slipped on the tiles. His hand reached out to grab me, but he was just a few inches too short. I kept sliding, my hands grasping for anything to hold on. The edge was approaching quickly and I couldn’t stop.
I was going to sail through the roof, that’s how hyper I was. I was waiting for a jetpack to grow out of my spine and propel me upward, my head splintering the shingles like I was Willy Wonka driving the glass elevator out of the factory.
Too much sugar? No. I was just psyched. I had received the concert tickets yesterday, and I was ready to see one of the greatest bands ever. But who to go with?
roof over my head.
doesn’t keep the rain off.
Typically a structure on the top of a building. It provides a covering for a household or a structure that is used to get out of the elements. A famous movie was once made entitled Fiddler on the Roof and it was a great film! Despite being a very commonplace object, a roof is something that anything should be greatful to have.