He's so young, with his whole life ahead of him. He has the future in his hands that eventually he will grow into. He gets older as the seconds on the clock tick. What will his life be like years from now? What will he be like ahead in life?

"Be patient" someone tells me.

"The best thing about the future is that is comes only one day at a time" - Abraham Lincoln

Spring break has returned. The sun came home to it's true family. Releasing it's warmth to greet his loved ones. Time to live. Time to have fun. Fun with friends. Fun with families. Jumping into the freezing bays, walking through the sandy beaches, getting grands of little rock in everything. Can you hear it? Spring's sweet cantata? But who cares? It's spring break.

"Spring is nature's way of saying, 'let's party!' "

The warm red trickling down your skin making your body shiver. The rust tasting liquid touching your taste buds making your jaws clench from the bitterness. From a slice in your skin to a hole in your body, the crimson splatters and the rose puddles growing. The images in your mind scarring it for as long as you can remember. Its the red, it will leave you with a reaction.

"It will have blood, they say; blood will have blood."

Primary used by the political activists and street gangs to mark their territory. When the writing identity began to form the history, the underground art movement began to form. They reached out to people in their own way, by the glorious colors that permanently marked walls, bridges, and building till today. The written names and codes that gained the attention from the community and local press. Who are 'they' you ask? The Graffiti artists or the 'writers' as they call themselves. They are passionate, They are skilled, they are community-oriented, and socially conscious in ways that profoundly contradict the way they've been portrayed as common criminals and vandals. But they will always give their gift to someone else, to have the art of graffiti still living in the world today.

"The words of the prophets were written on the subway walls and the tenement halls..." - Simon & Garfunkel's 'Sounds of Silence.

The little soft snow flakes falling down to the earth. The naked trees shivering from the iced wind. Coated with the white carpet of frozen puffs. The branches that are intwined together to give each other their own heat. All the crunchy golden leaves are hanging on to their lives.

Every breath that is exhaled is visible, all the rose cheeks are raw from the cold, and all the thin fingers are clenched in fists to keep warm. Let the winter leave, invite the spring with open hands.

"A hush is over everything, silent as women wait for love; The world is waiting for the spring" - SaraTeasdale

She's aquatinted with the knowledge that she acquires the attention of the male. She apprehends that she abides the captivating charm over others. She is capable of striding with every eye aimed towards her. She is it. It is she. The one to be classified as in control. Her.

"She who controls the present, controls the past" - Unknown