the twig is on the branch. The branch breaks. it falls and falls and falls so there are no caps because it falls so fast typing them would be irrelevant.
Sometimes the twig is on a branch, sometimes it’s on a life. When either of them breaks it causes the world to cry.
Please, I’ll be there when the twig falls. But I can only be there if you’ll let me, best friend.
Aaron S.
twig. yes i love twigs. awesome. from trees. not branches, but little twigs that break off and fall to the ground and get caught in your lawnmower and breaks it. which forces you to buy a new one. bummer. i dont love twigs anymore. i hate them. because they break lawnmowers.
Stephanie
They were running, the wolves hungrily howling after them- wolves didn’t howl until they had scented and tracked their prey.
For they were prey. And they were being chased by werewolves.
A twig snapped beneath his feet, and he looked up and stared into the yellow eyes of the werewolf.
Vicis
A twig is a part of a branch.
A branch is a part of a tree.
The tree is part of you and me.
Clean up the fucking planet.
Lauren Elizabeth
I can’t wait for the autumn to get more autumny omg i love the fall its like bam
and salmon days is coming up in one week! omg im so excited but i hope it gets more fall like before it happens because..well because its sad.
and i love salmon days by the way
procreation of salmon! yes!!! exciting!!
:D :D
end
Harley
A twig snapped under my foot as I crept through the forrest. I cringed as I saw the young deer look up cautiously. I hid behind a tree and got my camera at the ready. I was just about to take the picture when the deer ran off. I let out a disappointed sigh. “Hey!” a familiar voice said, I could now hear the crunching of leaves as he came closer. “Hey!” I said turning around to face Chase. “You always scare off the animals, why is that?” He got this weird look in his eye and smiled, “I don’t know, maybe they can sense danger…” I scoffed,”You? Danger? Ha, and I must be the bravest girl in the world.”
“That or stupid” He replied slyly, I smacked his arm, “Hey! Not nice!” I brushed past Chase and I could of sworn I heard him take in a deep breath, like he was getting a whiff of a freshly baked pie. “Yeah really brave or really stupid.” he muttered under his breath. For some reason the hairs on the back of my kneck stood on end and a voice in the back of my head yelled “Run.”
kenzie
A twig falls from a tree, signaling the end of life but the start of being something different. It’s not death, it’s not the end. It is a transition from one phase to the next, never ending and always altering.
Ana Patricia
Good fire starters. Camping? Find twigs. Make bows and arrows. Twigs also rhym with figs.
OSCAR
twigs make me thing of earwigs.. my brother used to be really afraid of them.. He made me afraid of them, now I kill all bugs because they freak me out.
twigs are good for starting campfires, I made a nice one in montana this summer..
Jeremiah
there’s a twig lying in the grass. it’s just lying there, alone, forlorn, melancholy. missing from the big tree, its father. broken off, snapped off. it’s detached, it’s ostracized. and it’s just there, belonging nowhere. it needs a home, but has lost it. so it lies forlorn in the grass, waiting for one to pick it up.
claire
She looked like a twig. So skinny, skinny jeans, toothpick arms, and a small pointy nose. I wanted to be like that. But there’s nothing to hold on to, when you’re holding a toothpick. Like a mirage she passed us by. Too thin to see. And I was glad.
Widdy
i like twigs they are like little sticks. they can snap, they can break, but they are twigs. trees are like gigantic twigs. its kinda funny
ima write random stuff now
wejkf;laaaaaaaaaasfjdksla;fjdkslajfkdlsa;f uioapnvfeiopqnyioeb nlnvhusemhkajopscnyurieobvilsvgauiovngruibnuiernbioauvbyaiowvnhubmoiopqmvirqopyniuxnbuipanvuperqmviotmbiopwnuwe
Jason Corrick
Your limbs are like twigs. So tiny, delicate, frail. I’m afraid that with my tree-trunk arms I’ll break you. But I know I never consciously could. I love you, you little sapling, with all my heart.
Abby
the fallen parts of tree branches that you forget about. you just walk over them. that is until you go to mow the lawn and your lawn mower break because one of these forgotten pieces of branch has decided to make themselves known in the form of breaking your mower and costing you hundreds of dollars in repairs.
Stephanie
Snapping, prematurely, abandoned to the lush, springy floor beneath.
t
There were flashes and snapping sounds all about the room. Music spewed from the speakers. A pounding beat lead the way as girls walked out from backstage down the catwalk.
Melody Grace
i think there was a twig on the other side of the fence. but i couldnt see it over the fairly large pine tree. i asked farmer brown if he could cut down the pine tree, but he looked at me and said “no, i have to go feed my llama. i don’t have time to cut down this tree. then he threw a twig and the llama caught it.
Molly
Trees are everywhere with broken branches; on the ground are small leaves and tiny branch stems.
Leaf
the twig broke evenly in my hands, leaving tiny fragments of bark in the wrinkles of my fingers. it was easy to break. it was easy. what to say about breaking a life? it was easier.
hans boggs.
twig. like Tory and Whig. twig. two in one, one in one. together. like a sticky japanese grain of rice stuck to the bottom of your sock after dinner.
tlur
a twig, easy to snap, so thin, so fragile. sitting on a tree, in a birds nest, growing a single leaf.
tlur
the twigs were crunchy with frost that morning. the birds knew that there was no food to be found, and so they chirped in despair. The bugs had long since departed for the winter. The children were still asleep in their peaceful
Stephanie
Perhaps the Green Party and the Whig Party should team up and make the Twig Party.
Wait, but then it’d be snapped in two very easily.
Myona
Claire was just a twig of a girl, a pale, ghostly blond, rail thin toddler who, as she took her first tentative steps, looked as if she might crumble into dust if she should fall.
Susan
it is just a small piece of a tree but we are all a twig on a giant tree growing upwards to somewhere that none of us twigs have ever been. So when we fall off the tree do we fall up or down? Which way is heaven? I’m a twig and I don’t care anymore.
Polly Changala
There once was twig. It hoped to grow up someday to be a branch. But alas, some one cut it down for kindling. It died a fiery death before realising its dream.
rr29
branches are brown and brittle. can be used to snowmen arms or as haptonemas on diatoms!
twigs on the ground make for great fire staters as long as they are dry. reminds me of my mum in the woods. breaking them and burning them.
big or small, new and old wood.
twiggy
lindsay May
reminds me of Tiggy. because of t i g. i wish i’m a twig not an overweight branch. twig is small and fragile though but pretty. i wish i’m small and pretty. i’m already fragile.
annie
tree
tall
delicate
icy
snapping
poking
thin
berries
leaves
Kristyn
I have a friend who wraps twigs in leather and puts them into her art. They are beautiful and not really dead any longer. If the leather is really thin it picks up all the bumps.
Vic
Leaves gone from branchs. Twigs are great for kindling for fires. Lots of twigs give the lawnmower trouble.
Anonymous
I saw a twig on the ground today. It was sticking up and it looked really lonely. So I picked it up and carried it for awhile, and it made me a feel a little bit like I was in touch with nature, or in touch with myself, or the world, or humankind… or something. But then I just dropped the twig and kept walking. Because at the end of the day, it’s just a twig. And I’m just a girl. And there’s nothing to connect us, or me to anything.
Tess
I snap it, under my foot. I’m graceless in the forest, but yet skitter over the leaves seamlessly. This is my terrian.
Caroline
Small and spindly, a moment in wood. It might be a cursed finger, or the plank an ant walks into oblivion. But it could be what you collected when you were five, wandering the yard on a listless July, just piling it with the other small bits until you had a little heap, a wild menagerie of unwanted nature you looked down upon with huge satisfaction.
Brian Slusher
A twigg is but the miniscule extension of a larger branch. But that branch would be nothing without all the minuscule, and seemingly insignificant branches thatt are what composes the great and powerful tree.
Anonymous
I dream to one day grow into a tree.. To sprout branches and sour into the like a gull, plowing through clouds and breeze. I long to dip the fingers of my roots into the heavens.
Jjp
mrs twig came through the office: she was dancing with tears in her eyes… she was obviously having a good time in her head… i asked: how can she be ssoo cool with life? she loved it and you could see it.
the twig is on the branch. The branch breaks. it falls and falls and falls so there are no caps because it falls so fast typing them would be irrelevant.
Sometimes the twig is on a branch, sometimes it’s on a life. When either of them breaks it causes the world to cry.
Please, I’ll be there when the twig falls. But I can only be there if you’ll let me, best friend.
twig. yes i love twigs. awesome. from trees. not branches, but little twigs that break off and fall to the ground and get caught in your lawnmower and breaks it. which forces you to buy a new one. bummer. i dont love twigs anymore. i hate them. because they break lawnmowers.
They were running, the wolves hungrily howling after them- wolves didn’t howl until they had scented and tracked their prey.
For they were prey. And they were being chased by werewolves.
A twig snapped beneath his feet, and he looked up and stared into the yellow eyes of the werewolf.
A twig is a part of a branch.
A branch is a part of a tree.
The tree is part of you and me.
Clean up the fucking planet.
I can’t wait for the autumn to get more autumny omg i love the fall its like bam
and salmon days is coming up in one week! omg im so excited but i hope it gets more fall like before it happens because..well because its sad.
and i love salmon days by the way
procreation of salmon! yes!!! exciting!!
:D :D
end
A twig snapped under my foot as I crept through the forrest. I cringed as I saw the young deer look up cautiously. I hid behind a tree and got my camera at the ready. I was just about to take the picture when the deer ran off. I let out a disappointed sigh. “Hey!” a familiar voice said, I could now hear the crunching of leaves as he came closer. “Hey!” I said turning around to face Chase. “You always scare off the animals, why is that?” He got this weird look in his eye and smiled, “I don’t know, maybe they can sense danger…” I scoffed,”You? Danger? Ha, and I must be the bravest girl in the world.”
“That or stupid” He replied slyly, I smacked his arm, “Hey! Not nice!” I brushed past Chase and I could of sworn I heard him take in a deep breath, like he was getting a whiff of a freshly baked pie. “Yeah really brave or really stupid.” he muttered under his breath. For some reason the hairs on the back of my kneck stood on end and a voice in the back of my head yelled “Run.”
A twig falls from a tree, signaling the end of life but the start of being something different. It’s not death, it’s not the end. It is a transition from one phase to the next, never ending and always altering.
Good fire starters. Camping? Find twigs. Make bows and arrows. Twigs also rhym with figs.
twigs make me thing of earwigs.. my brother used to be really afraid of them.. He made me afraid of them, now I kill all bugs because they freak me out.
twigs are good for starting campfires, I made a nice one in montana this summer..
there’s a twig lying in the grass. it’s just lying there, alone, forlorn, melancholy. missing from the big tree, its father. broken off, snapped off. it’s detached, it’s ostracized. and it’s just there, belonging nowhere. it needs a home, but has lost it. so it lies forlorn in the grass, waiting for one to pick it up.
She looked like a twig. So skinny, skinny jeans, toothpick arms, and a small pointy nose. I wanted to be like that. But there’s nothing to hold on to, when you’re holding a toothpick. Like a mirage she passed us by. Too thin to see. And I was glad.
i like twigs they are like little sticks. they can snap, they can break, but they are twigs. trees are like gigantic twigs. its kinda funny
ima write random stuff now
wejkf;laaaaaaaaaasfjdksla;fjdkslajfkdlsa;f uioapnvfeiopqnyioeb nlnvhusemhkajopscnyurieobvilsvgauiovngruibnuiernbioauvbyaiowvnhubmoiopqmvirqopyniuxnbuipanvuperqmviotmbiopwnuwe
Your limbs are like twigs. So tiny, delicate, frail. I’m afraid that with my tree-trunk arms I’ll break you. But I know I never consciously could. I love you, you little sapling, with all my heart.
the fallen parts of tree branches that you forget about. you just walk over them. that is until you go to mow the lawn and your lawn mower break because one of these forgotten pieces of branch has decided to make themselves known in the form of breaking your mower and costing you hundreds of dollars in repairs.
Snapping, prematurely, abandoned to the lush, springy floor beneath.
There were flashes and snapping sounds all about the room. Music spewed from the speakers. A pounding beat lead the way as girls walked out from backstage down the catwalk.
i think there was a twig on the other side of the fence. but i couldnt see it over the fairly large pine tree. i asked farmer brown if he could cut down the pine tree, but he looked at me and said “no, i have to go feed my llama. i don’t have time to cut down this tree. then he threw a twig and the llama caught it.
Trees are everywhere with broken branches; on the ground are small leaves and tiny branch stems.
the twig broke evenly in my hands, leaving tiny fragments of bark in the wrinkles of my fingers. it was easy to break. it was easy. what to say about breaking a life? it was easier.
twig. like Tory and Whig. twig. two in one, one in one. together. like a sticky japanese grain of rice stuck to the bottom of your sock after dinner.
a twig, easy to snap, so thin, so fragile. sitting on a tree, in a birds nest, growing a single leaf.
the twigs were crunchy with frost that morning. the birds knew that there was no food to be found, and so they chirped in despair. The bugs had long since departed for the winter. The children were still asleep in their peaceful
Perhaps the Green Party and the Whig Party should team up and make the Twig Party.
Wait, but then it’d be snapped in two very easily.
Claire was just a twig of a girl, a pale, ghostly blond, rail thin toddler who, as she took her first tentative steps, looked as if she might crumble into dust if she should fall.
it is just a small piece of a tree but we are all a twig on a giant tree growing upwards to somewhere that none of us twigs have ever been. So when we fall off the tree do we fall up or down? Which way is heaven? I’m a twig and I don’t care anymore.
There once was twig. It hoped to grow up someday to be a branch. But alas, some one cut it down for kindling. It died a fiery death before realising its dream.
branches are brown and brittle. can be used to snowmen arms or as haptonemas on diatoms!
twigs on the ground make for great fire staters as long as they are dry. reminds me of my mum in the woods. breaking them and burning them.
big or small, new and old wood.
twiggy
reminds me of Tiggy. because of t i g. i wish i’m a twig not an overweight branch. twig is small and fragile though but pretty. i wish i’m small and pretty. i’m already fragile.
tree
tall
delicate
icy
snapping
poking
thin
berries
leaves
I have a friend who wraps twigs in leather and puts them into her art. They are beautiful and not really dead any longer. If the leather is really thin it picks up all the bumps.
Leaves gone from branchs. Twigs are great for kindling for fires. Lots of twigs give the lawnmower trouble.
I saw a twig on the ground today. It was sticking up and it looked really lonely. So I picked it up and carried it for awhile, and it made me a feel a little bit like I was in touch with nature, or in touch with myself, or the world, or humankind… or something. But then I just dropped the twig and kept walking. Because at the end of the day, it’s just a twig. And I’m just a girl. And there’s nothing to connect us, or me to anything.
I snap it, under my foot. I’m graceless in the forest, but yet skitter over the leaves seamlessly. This is my terrian.
Small and spindly, a moment in wood. It might be a cursed finger, or the plank an ant walks into oblivion. But it could be what you collected when you were five, wandering the yard on a listless July, just piling it with the other small bits until you had a little heap, a wild menagerie of unwanted nature you looked down upon with huge satisfaction.
A twigg is but the miniscule extension of a larger branch. But that branch would be nothing without all the minuscule, and seemingly insignificant branches thatt are what composes the great and powerful tree.
I dream to one day grow into a tree.. To sprout branches and sour into the like a gull, plowing through clouds and breeze. I long to dip the fingers of my roots into the heavens.
mrs twig came through the office: she was dancing with tears in her eyes… she was obviously having a good time in her head… i asked: how can she be ssoo cool with life? she loved it and you could see it.
one minute so little time to write:(
why can’t there be a new word!!!!!!!!!!:(:):)
twig:):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):):)