Nicholas Cottrell 8 example essay topic

The Collected Works of Nicholas Cottrell Collected Works, Vol. 1 Disclaimer and Copyright Notice: All works within are copyrighted to Nicholas Cottrell, hereafter known as 'the author'. Unauthorized copying is prohibited. Each reader is authorized to make five (5) copies and distribute them in any manner as long as profit is not gained. This contains subject matter that you may find disturbing or inappropriate. Please do not read it if you think you may become offended. Table of Contents: 0.

Introduction 1. 'Spring' - The one romance poem in here. 2. 'Spiral's End' - a poem of revenge 3.

'Of Teenage Sorrow' - A short story 4. 'Nomad' - loneliness in writing 5. 'Frat Boys' - anti-drinking 6. 'Reflected Waves' - a poem of surprise at oneself 7. 'Phoenix' - a poem of redemption 8.

'My Friend In Misery: An Ode to Missa' - a poem of thanks 9. 'Bleeding' - a poem of being drained 10. 'Observations of Corporations' - A partial view of life. 11.

'Fallen Hero' - Read the disclaimer 12. 'Singularity' - the one way out 13. 'Short Views' - More views on life Introduction A while back, my poetry won me a statewide award. Ever since, I've been pressured to make a compilation of some of my crap and send it around to be published. This collection is just a bunch of stuff I threw together, not much thought to it. If you like it, tell me so!

My e-mail address is, write me. I'll write back each and every person by hand, I promise. Well, on with the show, I suppose. 1. 'Spring' A rose with gentle petals in the garden grows amongst the weeds Love, like the rose thrives in life's turmoils like the carefully planted seed - Nicholas Cottrell 2. 'Spiral's End " Too long have I spent Explaining what I've meant Too long have you heard my ominous words Whimpering, you cry on your knees, you die.

-Nicholas Cottrell 3. 'Of Teenage Sorrow' A child's cries in the night awaken the mother, who stumblingly finds her way to the crib. Is it a bottle, or a diaper change? The mother does not know. Inadequacy fills the teenage mother, and blinds her to the child's needs. ' Rot in Hell, kid. ' she mutters, crawling back into a bed where a father should be but wasn't.

The child's unrelenting tears force her from her nighttime reverie, abd drag her back to the nursery. 'Shut up, kid!' she growls drowsily. ' Don't you know I have school tomorrow?' But the baby does not know, and her howls fill the night. Lights come on in neighboring apartments, and shouts reach her ears. 'Shut that kid up!' 'Some of us are trying to SLEEP!' As much as she does not know how to help her tiny child, she remembers how to defend her. A torrent of curses and insults streams unladylike from her lips, and vanquishes the neighbor's screams.

Breaking into tears at her inadequacy to help her child, she drags herself to her small refrigerator and withdraws a beer. 'I just need more money... I just need more time... ' she mutters, and almost believes herself in her half-drunken state. In the morning she awakes, seeing that the baby cried itself to sleep. Kicking over the beer cans from the previous night, she looked at her alarm clock. Too late to go to school now.

Might as well spend time with the brat to make up for last night. Dragging out a stroller from beneath half-eaten TV dinners and beer cans, she reflected on the time when she still loved her child. When Stephen was with her... when she had money to spend... when life was good. She packed the child into the stroller, and rolled out the door and down the road to a little park. Stopping at the pond, she threw stones into the water and watched the ripples rise.

She pondered how easy life would be without her little brat. How easy... and that pond was so deep... and so dark... her knuckles whitened around the stroller's handle. So easy... -Nicholas Cottrell 4. 'Nomad' Across the Earth I stride, wandering These sands I'm cursed to ride, thirsting Alone I nurture pride, crawling And with myself I die, smiling. -Nicholas Cottrell 5.

'Frat Boys " Amongst the company of others, I find myself alone. These men who act like brothers, it chills me to the bone. In salute they raise their beer cans, (Alone stand without one) and dub each other 'Man' thinking that getting drunk is fun. -Nicholas Cottrell 6. 'Reflected Waves'A river flows beneath my feet reflection glows and life seems sweet I smile at myself and see the person smiling back is... not... me... -Nicholas Cottrell 7.

'Phoenix'I am impure for me, there is no cure I crawl to light to try and fight the dark within consumed by my sin I see the light it is so bright wash over me and make me be I become one my sins are gone the darkness lost this light has taught my life is new enemies few I come to terms my flesh not burn I look to the sky and wonder not why Because I made peace. -Nicholas Cottrell 8. 'My Friend In Misery: An Ode to Missa " In darkness I shone Held by Death's bones Fingers around my throat Thrown intothe acid moat It ate away my flesh with darkness and death I meshed Inside refused to die because then no one would ask why On brink I stood and stumbled around me world did crumble With friends I went to you I spoke My darkness spent Courage awoke Inside I live and to you I give this little rhyme in immortal time. -Nicholas Cottrell 9. 'Bleeding " Can give no more My flesh is spent Feel like a whore To home I went and ask they did for more of me I'm just a kid! They don't agree.

A man they made of just a child To them I've said 'Give me a while' But time is what I do not own that door is shut freedom, gone. -Nicholas Cottrell 10. 'Observations of Corporations " Swords locked in a battle of the titans, unknowing people standing beneath continue with their lives. Those that buy and sell us continue the petty squabbles that to us are financial wars. CEOs send their army of lawyers and accountants to do battle on the market, a more bitter field of battle than any foreign soil ever has been. And the foot soldiers of the war go home every day to a wife and two kids who love him only for what he brings in, not for what his.

-Nicholas Cottrell 11. 'Fallen Hero' This one is graphically psychotic Black trench coat flapping in the wind Dear Lord I know that I have sinned But Is till do my very best to protect her, and all the rest from the deepest darkest black Oh dear God he's coming back this evil thing that should not be the responsibility falls to me from deepest shadows he appears fills everyone " she arts with fear Oh my God he has a gun I'm screaming at them all to run fast enough is what I'm not blood is all those bullets bought filled with rage, I turn around because now I hear another sound he raises the gun to come at me I guess that he cannot see Everything I care about Already gone, their lives snuffed out He is the very worst he " ll kill me, unless I get him first leaping with a single bound over the bodies on the ground I've become a complete wreck My hands reach out, and break his neck I won't think about what I've done Afterall... I just killed my son. -Nicholas Cottrell 12. 'Singularity " Above a void I ride, stumbling and on the ledge I stride, crumbling inside the hole I fall, screaming I wish for a quick way back, dreaming There is no quick way, this I know The straight and narrow way to go is the only way back to life if only I can survive the strife Kicked in the side, to ground I fall Stabbed in the back, for help I call None rush to aid, none come to help No one loves this discarded whelp I look up and see a man hung on a cross, and to me, he smiles. I ascend.

-Nicholas Cottrell 13. 'Short Views " Every day is a trial by fire that each man must face to reach the true freedom, the dreams of the next night that bless a monotone world with a little color. Trapped inside himself, the men of the world look to nothing as guidance. Alittle bud on a little plant gives freedom to some, and death to others. Is it worth it? Kids die every day wondering if it is.

Freedom comes with a price. With a car, you can choose where to go, but you cannot choose when to die. Pain gives freedom from reality by making reality so harsh it cannot be faced. Love gives freedom from reality by making reality so rosy that it no longer exists. Greediness lets you see everything through hundred-dollar-green tinted glasses and everything changes into a $. Music and writing gives freedom by putting your entrapment onto paper and passing it onto other unsuspecting people.

And thus the world goes round, the trapping of one man going to another. -Nicholas Cottrell If you liked anything you read, write me at or my home address: Nicholas Cottrell 5888 For nof Rd. Columbus, GA 31909.