Robot-Mule

Past: Hope came like the rain Never dripping, always pouring onto me I was always right Except when I was wrong Improvising It was clear to me As words yelled loud, rang soft I was special Except when I was ordinary Present: Hope is slush at my feet Only melting to remind you it's still there I am always right I refuse to be wrong Symphathizing Spirits once clear to me Anger only for anger I am special Except when I am ordinary Future: Hope will smile down on me Sunshine laughing from true joy I will be right But sometimes I'll be wrong Hypnotizing Potential in the unknown Living, loving, an

Her hair. Always in a braid, her long brown hair came, no flowed, to her waist. Boys said it was beautiful. Girls said she was lucky to have such thick and wavy hair. Katara spent far too much of her time caring for it. Brushing out the tangles, keeping it nice and clean, when she did her water bending it would take forever to dry, and sometimes when she did an advanced move the braid would come down and there would be hair shedding everywhere. Aang spend most of his spare time playing with it. Using it like a rope, pretending it was a mustache, or just grabbing on and refusing to let go. When Sokka was especially annoyed with her he would

They each had a part to play. He played the soulless fire bender. Or the part of the spoiled prince, demanding what he wanted. His eyes danced in the light, from happiness or fear she does not know. All that mattered was that he played his part in the script of life. She played the part of ignorant water bender. She knew nothing of war but the friends who died. The blue eyed peasant. Her part was easier to play. They'd meet and exchange lines, practicing their parts to perfection. Exchange choreography. They would repeat their lines together and sometimes when they worked her mask would fall sideways. He carefully put it back in place. The