Biography of Paige Welch
I am a seventeen-year-old high school student with a slight sense of humor. For the most part, I write stories, but on occasion I try my hand at poetry. For the most part, my poems are similar to those of others. However, some of my poems are meant for the reader to at least chuckle. I hope that I am able to bring at least a smile to one face. Our lives are but tragedies, each of us being our own protagonist with his or her own flaw. By the end of Act V, we are gone. Let us remember those moments when we smiled or laughed, to let life and death do their bidding, and hold up our only weapon we have against these two villains: happiness.
Paige Welch Poems
From whence they came upon a night, A wretch, a wreck, an awful sight, How horrid they look, they soon shall come. The monsters, what horrors they bestowed upon some, How horrid they look, they come upon us. Be wary, my friends; be wary, They attack, murder have they wrought on people of yore. They come upon the village of Earth, Attack, destroy, burn the land. “Rid of them all! Rid of them all! ” The leader of these wretches shouts forever more. For from within these wasted lands of Nevermore, Men, women, and children shall cry. Forever in the world these beasts shall murder the innocent, Children of the Devil and Lilith, Shall wreak havoc upon us till the Final Judgment. Death be gone, death be gone, Never shall there be rest on us done. Downfall of man, hath we all perished, But what, we shall rise again, Wreck the evils of Heaven, Hell, and Earth.
Three Words Of Significance
My heart beats in a passion as though it is aflame, As though it is pressed by the white hands of a dame. Sing to my ears with thy honeyed tongue I await thy words of comfort issued from the air of thy lung.
Dreams Long Gone
Massive dark green leaves that never turn brown In bright, shining sun that never goes down Higher and higher the branches did go Held by chains of parental rules, my foe
A great magnificent smile of love, Was shed upon a man of loving heart. We have embraced each other from the start What with eyes as soft as a young, small dove.
Oh poor tsar of Laray, weeping forever, A man of great nobility, King Sprat Though many a man think him a filthy rat, Pity upon the soul shall ne’er endear,
From whence they came upon a night, A wretch, a wreck, an awful sight, How horrid they look, they soon shall come.