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Irons make me think of heat and pain and stuff like that. Or like silver. It also makes me think of branding. I have no idea why. Steam. And that scratchy-screechy noise it makes when you scrape it on the ground. It just gave me a shiver down my spine. I hate it.
By Alyson on 04.24.2011
Iron man, iron woman.
Those who can be invinsible,
not brought down by anything.
Once I was like that.
But if you lose it
You can’t get it back
By Cynthia Dlg URL on 04.24.2011
Iron…it could be irony, hard word same as the metal. Or perhaps iron maiden ? I dont know if I like the sound, but..well, some gets an iron of it..please make my shirts with it! Iron is made of
By Peter Pan on 04.24.2011
They said to strike when the iron is still hot. Like a blacksmith, you have to know when to make your move. You can’t wait for things to cool down, you can’t wait for the things to pass. When it’s fresh, when there’s still time, that’s when you need to strike. Because that is when the iron is still hot.
By Neha URL on 04.24.2011
pick it up, lift it as a weight. build offices out of it, make it useful. women use it in the kitchen, frying food for men who just went to the gym and lifted their own. straighten your clothes with it, look professional for a day.
By sophia on 04.24.2011
health gold patients care medicine chemistry element cutlery food essential molecule food meat red rust metal
By shannan on 04.24.2011
Iron is strong and builds lots of things. reminds me of pig iron which is iron from a blast furnace. I learned that in eighth grade during carpool when I helped my friend memorize what it was. I do not really like iron and the types because it is boring and I do not like science.
By kkk on 04.24.2011
i never iron my clothes. i think its a waste of time. i like the wrinkled look. one time i had to iron something in home ec class and got distracterd and burned a hole right through it. needless to say i got a d in that class. mostly because of my boy friend
By Beckster on 04.24.2011
black and brilliant, strong and sturdy, Iron should’ve been his name. but it wasn’t. his name was midnight, and he wasn’t black. he was just a little gray foal, galloping alongside his mother, who had no black horse lineage in her family.
By Jaymie on 04.24.2011
rusts and corrupts. Smoothes and steams. Maidens and housefwives, tool of torture and business suits.
By Blorn URL on 04.24.2011
He was as strong as iron; bold, vicious, unbreakable. He walked with the air of a noble gentleman, and fought like a dog. He was my brother and i knew he would stand up for me whenever and wherever i went. Ironfist was his nickname, and he had a reputation to match. Scary? No, he was only my brother. Strong as iron.
By Sophie URL on 04.24.2011
Ironing, I never get around to it. Being a typical teenager I have a pile of dirty clothes in my room that rivals the height of my dresser. If I want something wrinkle free then I’ll throw it in the dryer…never would I put forth the effort to iron it with my young vital teenage bones.
By mredel on 04.24.2011
a division of Identity Crisis, Inc.