Post by Galeno del Rio on Sept 23, 2007 19:29:33 GMT -5
A gently breeze whizzed past his ears as he turned around and glanced behind him; no one was following him. For the strangest reason, he hated having people around whenever he was trying to write and was always paranoid that someone was following, seeking to discover the slight secret of his creativity. A slight secret instead a fully protected and guarded secret? Many girls already knew of his talent in the collecting of words and creating of beautiful, romantic poetry. However, whenever he turned in an assignment for English, he asked the teacher not to reveal his name and whenever he turned in something for a local writing journal, he forever used his pen name: Richard Gal, leaving Galeno del Rio to be the gangster that he truly was. He was not ashamed of his ability, but was worried as to what the other male gangsters would think of his writing. The Pirus Bloods embraced his ability, nicknaming him Poet and having him negotiate all the various business deals since he was the best one with words. However, the gangsters around here were not from the Pirus Bloods and may be the kind that do not believe in negotiation, but violence first. That was his reasoning for hiding his talent; it was to protect his gangster status.
Moving from the doorway leading to the Balcony, Galeno threw his the hood of his black sweatshirt over his head and buried his neck inside, trying to make the cool fall wind avoid his neck and chest. He sighed and shook his head, clenching the red notebook and black pen tightly inside his left hand. He glanced over his shoulder again and checked again to make sure no one was behind him. Once the coast looked as if it was clear, he picked a table and plopped his notebook and pen against it. He sat and stared at the setting of the sun and began scratching some letters on the first page of the notebook:
A painting of purples, blues, and roses
As the head of a young maiden dozes
He looked up briefly from the words and tapped the pen impatiently against the paper, wondering as to where to go with this piece of work. The sunset had inspired him and maybe it should be the centerpiece of the poem? He shook his head and concentrated on the young maiden…a girl named Abi popped into his mind just the second later. He cracked a tiny smile and scratched more words…
A young maiden named Abigail
It appeared that since their brief meeting in the hallway, sitting together on the only private staircase that Galeno had not been able to get the girl named Abi, or Abigail, from what he concluded, out of his head, just as she had promised. He figured that the two of them would have a long relationship together, seeing how they hit it off so quickly and so strong. It slight worried him too, for things were rushed. They were not going out or anything, but he knew that he would be popping that question sooner or later; he couldn’t get enough of her!
He shook his head and scratched Abi’s name out of his poem, telling himself that he would dedicate a better poem to her instead of this one. Looking away from his paper again, he stared off into the draining sun, trying to find another name for a young maiden.
Moving from the doorway leading to the Balcony, Galeno threw his the hood of his black sweatshirt over his head and buried his neck inside, trying to make the cool fall wind avoid his neck and chest. He sighed and shook his head, clenching the red notebook and black pen tightly inside his left hand. He glanced over his shoulder again and checked again to make sure no one was behind him. Once the coast looked as if it was clear, he picked a table and plopped his notebook and pen against it. He sat and stared at the setting of the sun and began scratching some letters on the first page of the notebook:
A painting of purples, blues, and roses
As the head of a young maiden dozes
He looked up briefly from the words and tapped the pen impatiently against the paper, wondering as to where to go with this piece of work. The sunset had inspired him and maybe it should be the centerpiece of the poem? He shook his head and concentrated on the young maiden…a girl named Abi popped into his mind just the second later. He cracked a tiny smile and scratched more words…
A young maiden named Abigail
It appeared that since their brief meeting in the hallway, sitting together on the only private staircase that Galeno had not been able to get the girl named Abi, or Abigail, from what he concluded, out of his head, just as she had promised. He figured that the two of them would have a long relationship together, seeing how they hit it off so quickly and so strong. It slight worried him too, for things were rushed. They were not going out or anything, but he knew that he would be popping that question sooner or later; he couldn’t get enough of her!
He shook his head and scratched Abi’s name out of his poem, telling himself that he would dedicate a better poem to her instead of this one. Looking away from his paper again, he stared off into the draining sun, trying to find another name for a young maiden.
