Reversible poem

I've never done anything like this before but I wanted to try.(: you know those reversible poems that you read to the bottom then from the bottom to the top? Yeahh.. Here goes!(:

I give up.
I will not say
I will keep trying.
My life's not worth living.
They're wrong when they say
I should fight on.
I know
I should give up.
Some tell me
That my beauty is radiant.
But I know
That I am ugly.
Some think
I should throw it all away.
I will not listen when they say
Every second is precious.
I realize
It is not worth living
I refuse to believe
Every moment is beautiful.
Life is hard.

Unless you read it backwards..

Beginnings

Well I have a few beginning ideas for poems but I have had a hard time finishing these ones. Here is one.(:

I don't want to see the future,
I refuse to live in the past..
I don't want this moment now
Based on all that didn't last....

And another..(:

I long for just a whisper
A silent brush of wind
Let me hear your quiet warning
My patient waiting end....

Any suggestions?(:

Remember

Remember when,
My old best friend?
The times we had,
Remember them?
Light and pllayful,
And young and sweet,
The fruit of the tree,
We would always eat?
How quickly innocence,
Can disappear.
With just one peck.
One whisper in your ear.
Distance is a lucky thing,
It's closer to you,
Than I can now be.
I've come to realize,
That it isn't you,
The one that I love,
Is the one that I knew.
-Written by me.

The smell of mint is one of the strongest memories I have. I know, it's weird, but I remember being really little, and going to my grandma's house at about four in the morning because my mom had to work, and my dad wasn't there. I remember I would always go inside and sleep for about an hour, and when I would wake up my grandma would be outside working in her garden. Her garden has always been the most beautiful, peaceful place. I would look out the window to make sure she was there, and I would open the door, and run across the wet grass, and give her a huge hug and then I would walk through her garden smelling everything. Every flower, and every herb. The smell of mint was always my favorite, probably because whenever it was the right season, I would help her make mint jelly, and grape juice with mint and grapes from her garden. It is one of the best memories I have.

Another poem

The words are unspoken
She stares
Her eyes wide open
What once killed her
Tore her apart
Becomes the source of her strength.
Her being
For this moment
She lives for it
She feeds off his tears.
She becomes a nightmare.
His worst fear.
The fight.
The revenge
so sweet and so fair
So enjoyable for a moment..
Until again
Her eyes close
And he is fighting for air.
-Written by me.

I don't really have anything to say, or any explanation, but I wouldn't mind feedback(: enjoy

Woah.

Randy walked in the next morning, calm and happy, sleep still barely visible in his eyes. Good, he really was asleep last night. After I returned to the bedroom I couldn't sleep, worried that maybe he had been pretending, and that when he woke up this morning Randy would.. Well, I don't really know what he would do to punish me.. No one had ever misbehaved, and no one ever needed to be punished, so I don't know what happens when someone is bad. I didn't want to be the first to find out. He walked over to the bell, and rang it twice. Time to train. I pretended to be sleepy still, as I stood up and walked to Randy to collect my morning meal. Eggs as always. I reached out to grab them, making sure my hand wrapped around to the other side of the bowl so I could make it look like an accident when my hand brushed his. The second I touched his skin I was overwhelmed with a feeling of longing. Of loneliness, and of sadness. I had never felt anything like it. Often times when I read Randy's emotions they didn't match that always present smile he wore on his face. Still, this was a stronger feeling than ever before and it surprised me how well it was hidden. I always make it a priority to read at least on person every day. It gives me something to wonder about. The others probably think I'm strange for always brushing past them when walking, or touching their finger tips whenever I get the chance. I don't think any of them can read people like I can. Maybe I would find out differently if I told someone about my ability, but I'm not going to take the risk. I don't trust them.

Lydia A Tarryn

LA Ryn. That's what they call me here. My real name is Lydia A Tarryn, but there is not a single person I can think of who actually uses that name. Except maybe my parents, but I wouldn't remember anyway. They were both killed 17 years ago on the day I was born. You shouldn't feel sorry for me. If you never have a chance to meet your parents, you don't really have anything to miss, and besides that I don't want your sympathy. That's not the purpose for this letter. I'm writing to you now because I want proof. Proof that tomorrow does exist, and proof that I'm not completely insane for believing in a place where things are different.
He calls us his family. Randy that is. I guess you could say he has been my father. He's been the only father any of us have ever known. He is the only person I like. I hardly think of any of the others as siblings, though we could be. We all look the same. Our black hair, our brown eyes. All of us share the same room for sleeping, and the same huge training room. We also have a room called the testing room, though I'm not quite sure why it's called that. That is the extent of my world. Ive always wondered if there was more. Those three rooms are the only places I've ever been, and as far as I know there is no way to get to anywhere else. There are no windows, and no doors, and the only reason I know what windows and doors are, is because of the video. The one I wasn't supposed to see. The one I watched when I snuck into Randy's forbidden office last night to find him asleep on something that looked like a giant version of the one pillow each of us is allowed to have. There was a moving picture on the wall in front of him. It was unlike anything I've ever seen. In the picture there were two little boys and one little girl running on something green. I looked almost like hair and it was moving under their feet. I don't know what it was, but I know I wanted it. They were in a light blue room, and there was a very bright light. But the moving picture wasn't all. There was noise too. The little boy smiled and said, "We miss you daddy!" And then it turned off, and there was only a blackness with white letters spelling out the word video.
Until last night I had only dreamed of the possibility of something such as the world I now believe to exist somewhere. I can't talk to the others. I don't trust them. Whoever you are, if you're out there, please try to show me some sign that you exist. Some sign that I am right and this is not just a false hope.
-Lydia