Post by Annalise James on Jun 27, 2007 13:28:44 GMT -5
Peering up at night-time stars,
gaping at how very far.
Not a Light from House or Street,
A campfire as a source of heat,
Folded Arms Above My Head,
No unfriendly words are said.
A bed of grass beneath myself,
Giving me the simplest wealth.
This is how I dream to be,
A life like this is beyond fee.
I'm sick of all this extra noise,
Pointless problems, and getting annoyed.
But for now I can only dream.
I'm out of reach as it would seem
This one small thought keeps me alive.
In what I do it helps me strive.
At the Stars you find me staring,
Thoughts of this, I am not sharing.
Very quickly, passes the time.
But wishing never Is a crime.
gaping at how very far.
Not a Light from House or Street,
A campfire as a source of heat,
Folded Arms Above My Head,
No unfriendly words are said.
A bed of grass beneath myself,
Giving me the simplest wealth.
This is how I dream to be,
A life like this is beyond fee.
I'm sick of all this extra noise,
Pointless problems, and getting annoyed.
But for now I can only dream.
I'm out of reach as it would seem
This one small thought keeps me alive.
In what I do it helps me strive.
At the Stars you find me staring,
Thoughts of this, I am not sharing.
Very quickly, passes the time.
But wishing never Is a crime.
Credit to xyourassassinx[/size]
Written By Allesandra Kenworthy, the founder of Kenworthy farms, the poem hung around the establishment for many years. Even after the suicide of Allesandra, the Kenworthy knew that Allie, a.k.a. Allesandra, had always wished for the stables to move on. In the calm Nevada state, many knew of Kenworthy Stables, as the best ranch horses, stock, and everything else. Many tried to buy the land.
But were always refused. The ranch is coming to trouble, Mystical things are happening at Kenworthy's. THe barn nearly collapsed on the students and horses. But something saved the students in the room. And even though the barn is being rebuilt, they classified it as not important. Then new teens come to the barn for help. They arte in danger of being sent to a foster home. Their last chance, is to get help here, and to learn to trust again, and to keep from trouble.
Now, Kenworthy's is under watch by many. And as the teens and owner return to the round pen where a mustang was being held, they see the young horse, dead, killed by absolutely nothing. No causes were found. At Kenworthy's magic is around and at apeal. Be on your feet at Kenworthy's.
Allesandra didn't write that poem for nothing. Because even here, at Kenworthy's One Can Dream, and One's dream, can become the newest nightmare.
Kenworthy's Stables; One Can Dream
