I'll take a dare from whoever the hell's go it is to give a truth or dare. P.S. The feeling of rust against my salad fingers is almost orgasmic.
Yeah, Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah-Ark Oo-ooh-ooh, hoo yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah Yeah-ah-ah Yeah-ah-ah Yeah-ah-ah Yeah-ah-ah Yeah, yeah, yeah (Reconsider this opening. This is the first thing your listener hears Rebecca say. It needs to pull them in right away.) Seven a.m., waking up in the morning Gotta be fresh, gotta go downstairs(This is worded clumsily and is confusing. Is 'fresh' referring to 'stylish and beautiful' or simply clean and having brushed your teeth?') Gotta have my bowl, gotta have cereal(This is useless movement. Eating in the morning is implied. Unless it moves the plot or enhances a character scrap it. We all eat.) Seein' everything, the time is goin' Tickin' on and on, everybody's rushin'(This sudden surge of action seems poorly placed. Earlier Rebecca was casually eating a bowl of cereal, but now everything's frantic. Why?) Gotta get down to the bus stop(This needs to presented much earlier. Up to this point Rebbeca is a random nobody who's just eating some Cheerios and getting 'fresh'. The introduction if the bus stop changes everything I thought I knew about her. Is she going to work? School? Prison? All her actions take on new layers and meaning, now. Intoduce this earlier.) Gotta catch my bus, I see my friends (My friends)(This is well done. You convey a lot of human emotion and potential for plot with these few words.) Kickin' in the front seat Sittin' in the back seat Gotta make my mind up Which seat can I take?(Plot hole. Earlier you mention Rebbeca is taking a bus, but here it's implied she's riding in a four door car. Is it the special education bus? If it is, then what is her disability? This opens up a whole new layer to her character, if only these things were clear.) It's Friday, Friday Gotta get down on Friday Everybody's lookin' forward to the weekend, weekend Friday, Friday Gettin' down on Friday Everybody's lookin' forward to the weekend(What does this have to do with Rebbeca and her struggle to get to school? Again, we all think about how bad we want the work week to end, so telling us about it is almost-) Partyin', partyin' (Yeah) Partyin', partyin' (Yeah) Fun, fun, fun, fun Lookin' forward to the weekend (... I quit.)
I've been watching this for a while and have finally decided to jump in. Someone dare me to do something. I will regret this ;-; oh well
Oh dear, rhymes here we go this'll probably turn out awful Skye was a writer, you could say, Typing furiously, all day, every day. She wrote all types of things! (except in May; "Finals are a BITCH," or so she'd complain.) Skye was a writer, a poet, a prose-et A walk-around, bang-your-head-on-a-wall-et. She'd frequently forget the right word to use, And her characters? They were constantly abused. But sadly, she says, with a tear on her cheek, "I'm bad at rhyme, I'm now feeling weak, And 3rd-person-self-description's really a bore, I bet my classmates are glad I don't snore." And so ends this short tale of the Walker of Skyes I'd better leave... before I'm showered with pies.
Let's see a scene description of wherever you are while reading this. However, from the point of view of a small child.
I look around before using both my hands and knees to crawl on the bed. Before me lays a huge dresser with big boy books, as well as complicated fwench homework. The huge closet to my right is stacked with clothes, as well as the huge bin filled with sport gear near me
I can't think of anything off the top of my head, though I have been told I picked my nose when I was younger.
OH! I didn't know that was for me. (this is not part of the haiku) Only funny to twisted people but screw all you normal people. Be cheerful through pain. The leper told the hooker, "You can keep the tip." Are we supposed to stop that when we grow up???
