So, what's occurring? I explored the depths of Bangor town and University on Saturday; it's a beautiful little town and the campus buildings itself hold hidden stories, I can tell. I think the other universities have a lot to live up to after witnessing Bangor's idyllic setting and historical structures - it seems perfect for the course I wish to take (Creative Writing and Media Studies) as the entire town makes me feel inspired and I just want to write and create and write and create and write and create!
On another note, the lecturer at Bangor told me I have to submit a small portfolio of creative work when applying for my particular course. I've been writing short stories and opinion pieces for a while now, so I thought I'd try something different as practice and so I attempted a bit of poetry. It's only a rough draft so it's not perfect. But I hope you like it!
The Girl In The Window
There's a girl who sits in her window
All day, every day
I watch her when I can from mine
She seems lonely, but not quite
I thought she glimpsed me once or twice
But I can never be so sure
And when she did I could've sworn
A small smile appeared
She always carrys paper and pen
On the ledge she stays
I guessed to write down happy thoughts
To keep from her dismay
I thought about what she would write
In the hours she spent alone
Stories and tales of happier times
And adventures yet to come
I thought about her happiness
If she felt it, ever
The infinite feeling, an unstoppable force
Controlling the sun, moon and earth
I then explored her dark days
And how her thoughts would change
Whether she simply waited for light
Or let the oceans take her away
I haven't seen her for a while
Maybe she got scared
Her father was not a nice man
I hid when he appeared
Sometimes that was not enough
I could always hear the cries
I wanted to stop it but somehow
Didn't have the courage
I read and read to understand
Why she disappeared
Each book taught me something new
And I almost felt better, almost
I hoped and prayed for her sake
That she was okay over there
For maybe it was better that I
Could not see her anymore
There's a girl who lies beneath her window
Once lonely, now at peace
I smiled for I knew
She loved it where she was
I read a brilliant book once
And there it was, this one page
About mirrors and windows and reflections
And how they are easily mistaken.

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