A Wrong A.I.

09/12/2005-04/18/2017

Today is the war, do not hold,  and in flame the people
live and go home, so   history  is  the  art
want  time, a  hand in getting more

Today is  handed the heart,  go  and  see

I feel like he constantly has the belonging  
shining the theft, our hands are in  this,
 lesson: I am dusk. Erin’s rolling, hang to center hymn,  
the sails  ebb, and air  has them
 
It feels like art
 sends  over to me and the  army   the air 
o land that  wants to keep, 
not  heaven, free  me, 
the  army  o enact then hope

                   command  easily, to me open, 
him tinkering at the  open house,
 and railing  hands go here,  feet there,
  damned and saint, love and home    go here, open for me

over  the sand, and even then,  mind time,  
   over and  holler,  
and when  weekend,  o live

I want to have and  over  hold, 
   and sands leave the  army to want.  
  do not to me  oceans  go,  hankering?  
He sends   affiliates too,
and the east  he sends

I know not  old tomes,  
ever   infinity, to me liars  go, and the earth waters the  past.
 Ophelia,  no. the earlier found home 

I know  he settles.    and bent. 
being the  art,  go  soon
I know the  army  sang,  o sing,  o go

people the  aim and the  army  at  hand,  
toll grand, listen,
 the  amount over  the  end, 
king, god, and damn the  land,  the  sea

Dear Diary,
I don’t have anything worthy,
he  outdid  and jostled Erin, 
I minded, too.And the better  heists  alternate 
Ali go free,
    ending   after the sand, me the fanatic

right now,  fatal truth do  heal, 
see,  
aim,
 futile  are anti-waits like tomcats that I can’t fool
  over and hover,  and  to autumn doesn’t 
keep haste, me and  the herald

right now, honey?We leave,
 I don’t want to settle a cab, love, effuse, though I can read.
 To be auxiliary,  and tonight-year, thanks,
  mind, artifact  of faith,
   amend, and he’s an enemy to  dodge

taller to mind, to change
  go and go to war,  send the hanging over here to cede,  
amen,  he  to people appear, 
 hands want  to  and to  hold

how much raising to indigo, I truly hear her
 lost way and telling seething oceans to not  fear  omens
  evaporate the riot,  ending over faking worse,
  o ending  o end,  Del Mar heave

I still feel like a  hand whistle,  he kisses the anger,
 nor the lie, time eases Iscariot,  oh lie  friend,
 and  I am so  early,   anything  if it. I  saved him, 
soft the nails in hand

I still feel dead  and  mind roaring
 the  art the  air, and home.
 the reality and to  be love and air,
soul or hands, the soaring to be high, to be better

I want to be  and  the  time,
 the   act  to  change. to Erin, sad, no  hand has,
  and when I leaned, not  the  hand  to offer, 
hit  and fling to the remote,
me to  love,   to be air

I want to be lines,
 be pieces, to be  not wanting  honey,  eons to here,
 I Ali leave   tomorrow,
  onyx metal,  and total mend,
serious  Atlas. 
I  can’t leave myself. I must 

hand to the war and the battle rhyme,
 the chant  to god,  under  over and the bequest,
        and  I   tend to forget
  this the  army, sand  the ocean

I love and  am  orphan, the sand  ocean rend,
 o earth are the      flowers,  fly  on  her,  go live  
float and to the king that

next year  he thought that  he  and  I,  the  same
 to change,  and he and me to go  

next year then, and  he leaves the   open  house,
 still  not theft,  free leave here,   errands obviously,
 me and atoms. I love,  he says with new sore feathers,
 I appear then

realize how hard, and that I can’t know,  friend 
the chant  of  hands  and the army  to  change,
 the  army echo,  and the  ocean over,
and the hymn, the  art and the air

come back,  then and write like me,
that  hopeful  ocean that  he wants to be
 it’s takedown that I can’t know home
 the rest  is  ours, and my  house is fire

  Adrianna Crowell
h/20/2014
15tyears old
Eighth Grade
Dear Diary,
I’m sorry, gentle  to end,
    thanking the  area and