Challenge 17

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**Words: Wings, Rose, Leaf, Necklace, Dream**

## 1st Position: Prarthana Modi with 4 upvotes

**Nature's Plea**

Blood is spilling

Like petals of rose

Falling from the sky above

I have a feeling

Strange but sound

To just hold onto the ground

Humanity lost

A day untold

Feeling uncontrolled

Deep in this icy frost

Can't see no green

The yellow leaf of fall seen

I had a dream

A dream to be

But now I see

That I can only scream

No one will hear my voice

Because it's their choice

No one is left

No one to hear me

But hear my plea

Because life is a test

Save me is all I ask

I don't want an oxygen mask

No more dark clouds

Just the sunshine

With the occasional drizzle twine

And the nature sounds

Make a necklace of people

Be the eagle

Standing strong and together

Soaring high forever

Spread those wings

Wings of kindness

Wings of humanity

Lend a hand

And get back what used to be

Like fireflies taking flight

Like leaves lost on the wind

And roses holding a wish

Memories in your mind

But they've all died

Can we go back?

Back to the past

I remember when it was easy

On a day that was breezy

The wind stole my thoughts

And I drifted away

In the roses red, I lay

Trying to find the words to say

It's no longer easy

And my necklace lost it's shine

And I'm blinded by the light

Sit here 'till night

And hope the dreams float by me

And then maybe I'll be able to see

Maybe I can just be

The leaf of a tree

The diamond of a necklace

All the things we could’ve been

Has a kind of beauty

Yet they refuses to believe

So our powers

Are caged inside

We shine, we hide, we lie

No room to stretch our wings

Lost the ability to dream

The blue sky out of reach

Life’s not a fantasy

Now they take away our wings

Tells us flying is a sin

We dream of diamond skies

They lock us in a mine

They try to make us normal

Supress talents, ruins potential

Ignores the

Emptiness in our eyes

We shine, we hide, we lie

## 3rd Position: JayKitty76 with 2 upvotes

For those who haven't watched Newsies (either version);

Seventeen-year-old Jack Kelly and fifteen-year-old Crutchie Morris (a cripple, hence the nickname) are newsboys in the heart of Manhattan, in 1899. During the course of the story, after the Manhattan newsboys launch a strike against Joseph Pulitzer, Crutchie is arrested and thrown into the Refuge, a brutal juvenile prison. By the end of the show, he's released. I like to think that this scene takes place shortly after the show ends, when the strike has been settled and there is finally some semblance of peace again.

“Please… no…” The sound of semi-coherent pleas broke the silence of the New York midnight. Jack’s eyes opened quickly as he tensed. A light sleeper, he had woken instantly, bracing himself for danger. “No… can’t go back…”

Slowly Jack sat up, identifying the source of the sound now. Crutchie was being haunted by nightmares. It was the day after his release from the Refuge, but he had not yet shaken off the horrors. Jack stroked his hair.

“Crutchie, wake up…” Very slowly the younger boy’s eyes fluttered open. “It was just a dream…” Crutchie closed his eyes again, tears beginning to spill down his cheeks like silver leaf, flowing down his face and throat like a necklace. Jack had the sensation of being punched in the stomach; his little brother’s suffering was his own. He cradled Crutchie like a little boy, rocking him; he could feel Crutchie’s fragile, childlike body shaking. “Shh… it was just a dream…” Jack murmured. “Don’t cry…” Looking at him, helpless and terrified as a child, Jack fought back tears himself. He bent over Crutchie, holding him close, running work-callused hands over his tumbled red-gold hair. “I ain’t never letting you go back there,” Jack whispered. “You’re safe now… shh… shh…”

Slowly Crutchie’s trembling stopped. Tears shone in his wide blue eyes. Jack could feel him relaxing very gradually, his breath coming in soft shuddering catches as he obediently attempted to stop crying. Safe… safe… The word echoed sweetly around Crutchie’s mind, comforting like the love of a family. Jack’s gentle hands dried the tears from his face, tender with the cuts and bruises. Jack had never yet broken a promise to him. With one last deep breath Crutchie relaxed completely, his weight pitifully light in Jack’s arms. His eyes closed again, his trust placed fully in his faithful big brother. When his breathing slowed, the regularity peaceful, Jack knew he had fallen asleep again; he knew the road to recovery would be long, and not merely physical, but Jack was thankful he could always be there to comfort his little brother. He could only imagine what Crutchie had gone through, and while prison had damaged Jack’s own tough nature, he did not want to think what it had done to Crutchie’s innately gentle, innocent spirit.

Jack slid Crutchie down again onto the mattress. He lay there still, fast asleep, the expression in his face tranquil and free from pain. If anyone could have seen the two boys at that moment, they would have said that there was no mistaking the love in Jack’s eyes as he watched his friend. By day, Jack was tough, sarcastic, a poverty-hardened young man. But his eyes now told another story; they were tender, filled with gentleness and sacrifice.

In fifteen minutes both boys lay asleep again, side by side on the wings of the night, fifty feet up in the sky. The moon cast its silvery glow on their rosy faces, and as the sky lightened it chased away the last traces of the night, ushering in the coming dawn. Every day would be easier, full of new strength, and with Jack by his side, Crutchie would not only recover- he would thrive once more.