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I was the only survivor. Of the many sons of Gil I was the only one burdened to continue the family name. Yet I was gay. Babies were never part of the equation for me. Especially now that the world lay in ruins. Where to start? I knew I needed to make the pilgrimage to avenge the fallen ones, yet I needed to gain the power to do so. Somehow procreating didn’t seem to fit in anywhere.
By Ruben URL on 08.09.2013
I don’t know what it would be like to have sons. I have only daughters. When I was pregnant, I was so afraid I would have a son. I don’t know why it scared me.
By Renee URL on 08.09.2013
sons and lovers, oh my god, what a bpook it was fantastic and also abpout DH lawrence, what proimitve theories that can rattle all brains out an dreading him today as liberated woman I feel spo oblighed that IO am also a part of a world a that appreciates all kindf pf iuntellect and therorid
By Astha on 08.09.2013
Mr Mehta had 3 sons – amit, sumit and harish. All the sons were good-looking, hardworking and devoted to their parents. Not a single fault could be found in them, except that the sons were maybe too good. But one day, it turned out, the sons were not as good as they seemed.
By Am on 08.09.2013
Little fingers, stretching over pale yellow. Wet nose peeking out and sniffing gently.
By Baby on 08.09.2013
I don’t have sons but if I did I would raise them as strong sensitive people, close to family and true to their hearts. I would also raise them to respect and love women.
By Robin on 08.09.2013
The rat has nipples like other mammals. Her sons are called pups. Her truth flows in milk.
By Jeff Goodman URL on 08.09.2013
Of all my sons, my third was most like me. Every day he would strive to exceed his brothers, even though they seemed to be greater blessed with talents and abilities. On the day of his fifteenth birthday, he killed his two elders in their sleep. “Now” he whispered over their fresh corpses “I will be the very best. Like no one ever was.”
By Charles Christopher on 08.09.2013
All four of his son and all seven of his daughters buried their mother in a shallow grave, just on the outskirts of their property, where the blue daffodils grew in enormous and majestic clumps and the sun kissed the hill just right so the mark of golden lips remained on the grass. The oldest brother, Ernie, helped Cindy, four years his senior, put away the shovels while their father fetched himself a beer.
By Belinda Roddie URL on 08.09.2013
The battle raged around the blood-spattered king, his mouth set in a snarl and his sword chipped from the force he had been putting on it for the last few hours, but he was tiring. This kind of fight – one he’d never intended to get into – was too much for a man of his age. As he finally fell, a battle ax protruding from his back, he hoped against all hope that his sons would be able to carry on, that they would cease their fighting and that their intense rivalry would not tear his beloved country apart. His body hit the ground, and a roar went up from all sides; calls to avenge him, calls for the enemies’ blood, and two twin calls of grief. Half an hour later all forces were dispensed of and the fallen king’s sons stood over their father’s body, one with tears dripping into his shaggy beard, the other stone-faced and cold. “So. It begins…”
These are the words that began one of the most intense power-struggles in the history of the nation. Beliefs as well as armies clashed as they tore each other apart, waiting desperately for one son to end it all.
By Christinymous on 08.09.2013
The sons were ever more tempted to impress their grandfather. They would try to go the furthest, deepest spot in the woods to hunt the largest bear. Never before did they come together for such an intense hunt.
By just me on 08.09.2013
Her two sons lay in the ground; fresh flowers now rested where their heads would be. She stood, letting the rain fall down upon her, not caring in the least if she got sick. She was alone now, her husband lie beside his children, and she wanted nothing more than to have them all back again; to be with them always.
By Ann on 08.09.2013
My sons and daughters, hear what I say! I do not come to you in time like this without the intention of delivering you from the hands of your oppressor. He will not stand if you rise up against him, but you must have faith. Never underestimate the power of where you came! You are strong!
I will lead you into battle, but no amount of leadership will teach you to be a warrior. I can only offer help, not ch
By Tala on 08.09.2013
The two boys ran and played, wooden swords held ready in a mock war.
Brothers they would forever be, but only one was a true son.
The other…the outcast, was soon to discover this. And for embittered he would be
By Cat on 08.09.2013
A little boy growing up
Forever a brother
Forever a son
And forever loved
Or so he had always thought….
I have no sons. In fact, I only have one daughter, which means I have no daughters either. But is that necessary. Is two better than one? I have many time been chided for the fact that I have an only child. Does that automatically make her more selfish?
By Linda S. URL on 08.09.2013
Sons belong to one, so does a son. Given that the sons are all good men, who knows, maybe they themselves will have a son or sons. But some sons have no time for those who gave him life, so they better focus mostly on the one son, and leave the other sons behind.
By Matt on 08.09.2013
Sons. He had five of them. Had. Careless to lose a son you would think, so what would you think if I told you he lost three.
By fionars URL on 08.09.2013
If you’re having girl problems I feel bad for you SON
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain’t one
-mumford and SONS
By Jennifer URL on 08.09.2013
If you’re having girl problems I feel bad for you SON
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain’t one
-mumford and SONS idk what else, have no imgaination.
The progeny, the future. The family’s hopes rested on his shoulders. It was a lot of pressure. Rather than embrace the role, he shirked his responsibilities. Was it right? Was he in the wrong? Was it fair? Did that make him weak and cowardly, or did that make him bold and adventurous. He only hoped that what he was doing was right, that he had made the correct decision, that his way of life, while a huge disappointment to others, was at the very least a life of self-fulfillment.
By B L URL on 08.09.2013
Sons weren’t hard to take care of, so my mother tells me. She says that all they are interested in until puberty is video games and violence. She says that when they do become full-blown teenagers, that’s when they start getting horny and thinking about girls way too much. I absolutely agree. My brother isn’t like most boys, he’s real nice and he isn’t all that horny or anything. He’s just right. My mother sure did raise us kids right. I’m lucky that I’m only her second daughter.
By Violet on 08.09.2013
There was Honey, sniffing tomatoes at Fairway Market in Manhattan and dripping Wilson & Sons diamonds from her ridiculous tiara to her blinding stilettoes. No Harry Winston for her, no! There was only one of him she reasoned, and she wanted a company with plenty of sons, all the more to trudge to the mines as dawn cracked the sky, them with their lunch sacks of aprons and jeans remnants, all set to begin the day’s dirty business of mining those diamonds… Least that’s how it was done with coal down in Big Stone Gap.
By Miss Alister URL on 08.09.2013
He names his son after his best friend.
His dead best friend.
He doesn’t know why, doesn’t know how, but his first son’s name ends up being his best friend’s name, same spelling and all. He doesn’t know how his wife agreed, doesn’t even know why his wife would nod her head at the sudden suggestion, but it still ends up being the syllables spoken out of his mouth on impulse.
And as his son grows older and they have more children, his first son reminds him of his best friend and it tears his heart to shreds and stitches his old, untreated wounds with the gentlest of care. His smile, his laugh, his attitude reminds him of his best friend so much that he wants to scream and cry and laugh and hug his son into suffocation. It’s endearingly painful.
So when his son asks him how he got his name (for a school project, how troublesome), he sits the young boy down, balls his hands into fists, and relays a story he’s sure his son will never forget.
And he doesn’t.
And when he has a family of his own, he names his son after his dad’s best friend, not after himself. No reason to call his son the second, or junior.
(Only on the legal papers.)
The tradition lives on, and the man with the best friend who died too early for his own good died a very happy man.
Yes, very happy indeed.
By zink URL on 08.09.2013
This day sucked.
By Jason URL on 08.09.2013
Shoulders peeking from the blanket, bare. Tiny sighs from crib resides, clasps of fingers, little grips. Hold on to what you can, my children.
By Lauren on 08.09.2013
I was the Son everyone dreamed of having. I played three sports, all perfectly. I broke girls’ hearts left and right.
They didn’t like me nearly as much after the breakdown.
I was done, so full of life to the point I exploded violently enough to hurt every member of my family. I couldn’t handle it anymore, though I never really could comprehend what I could or couldn’t handle. It took everyone by surprise, myself included. It just had to come out though. An anger which had been filling up my unknowing psyche consumed me all at once, a moment I can never take back or explain. No one could possibly understand. I can’t understand. A rush of the color red, and my world as I knew it was dead.
By Samantha URL on 08.09.2013
Sons. She had quite a lot of them. She had always wanted daughters, but never got them. She tried to appear pleased, she really did. But I saw through it. I see through everyone. I see through everyone’s lies.
By Mary URL on 08.09.2013
Too long ago things that would have brought me joy, now fill my heart with doubt and fear. The love I have is so grand and so open, but to bring forth my sons into a reality so distraught and ravaged with ill spirits does more than frighten me, it brings my being to tears.
By Oz Nolem URL on 08.09.2013
i thought, one day when i have kids, i’ll look at them bother and tell them not to let someone else be a controlling factor in their life. i’ll tell them to stand on their own and be independent. i’ll raise them no so they’ll be how i want them to be, but so they’ll survive
By corrine marie URL on 08.09.2013
He had many sons. Sons that, unfortunately, did not care for him as much as he cared for them.
He had lots of money. More money than you could ever want in one lifetime.
And then, one day, he didn’t have sons, or any more money.
His sons disowned him, and took his money with them.
He wished he had one son. An actual son.
By Anisha Russell URL on 08.09.2013
my sons are not biologically related to me. they are the boys i nurture everyday. they are the boys i look after and make sure they are safe. they are the boys that come to me for guidance. they range from being young to being full grown men. i can provide the mother role indepdendent of whom i share my genes with.
By Amanda URL on 08.09.2013
i wouldve been better off as a son to my dad. Hes so constantly picking on every singe thing it irritates me to the core.
By linda on 08.09.2013
Sons of sons of sons of daughters. Daughters of sons. Children of destiny. Too much family weighing him down. The only way to escape under the crushing pressure, the immense mountain of familial expectation, was to run, run, sprint, fly through the forest, over layers of the past.
By Ann M. Lynn URL on 08.09.2013
I was one of two. Really it was only me all along but a mental lapse in my father’s life created two branches of destiny. Born six weeks apart from one another, both males held a piece of the key that would ultimately save the world. The drawback was that only one was meant to wield it.
The sons of Erin rode out across the sea, not to fight, but to prosper, to work the land, build the railroads, and in the evenings, sing their songs and share good times. Their legacy is us.
By tonykeyesjapan URL on 08.09.2013
Have you ever read the book of numbers in the bible? It’s just nonstop talking about someone’s sons’ sons’ sons’ sons’ sons. I can’t take it. I read. It’s what I do. It’s who I am. I can’t read that though. I would like a son however
By whitney on 08.09.2013
My sons never let me down. Not that my daughters do, but sometimes i expect more from them. The boys are constantly surprising me. “Mom,” they say, “let’s go shopping.” and while they feel a little sheepish about letting me spend money on them, they don’t have all that damn guild that the girls seem intent on. It makes things easier.
By Rose URL on 08.09.2013
when i grow up
i will have sons
and we will live
in a house
amid the reeds
and they will run and run and run
and jump over the ground
lost in their footing
tripping over the creeks
while i watch from the porch
shoveling food into a babys mouth
when they run
i will follow
and amid my sons and daughters
as we tumble through the fields
i will become
By sevenwords URL on 08.09.2013
We are the sons of angels. The few who are expected to fly when we weren’t given wings.
We are the sons of angels. But we are more like the demons of hell.
By Rachel Juillerat on 08.09.2013
a division of Identity Crisis, Inc.