When I was in elementary school, the school colors were white and maroon. I still have the maroon shirt that i was given when I joined the basketball ‘team.”
I am not a good thinker so obviously I can’t think of what to write about “Maroon.” I guess I’ll start by saying it’s my least favorite color. Maybe I should try out new things and make it my most favorite, or I can just go listen to some Maroon 5. After all they do come from my state. Sigh my state is not a good fit for my state of mind. I think I might not be sane. After all I messed up my original One Word doodah…Oh well!!!!!!!!Maroon rhymes with balloon XD
one word to say all of these things? About wonders and life and confusion? What can I do to improve myself of these inadequate thoughts that describe this one word. Love. I can’t decide on how to take this. I hope that you can somehow figure it out because I know I can’t.
a simple treat at grandma’s house. Maroons, or are they macrols? or macaroons? Something it was simply divine on a sunday morning. A treat for a wonderful child.
maroon is actually one of my favorite colors. the color of arizona state university, the color of something or someone’s passion. the color of the pioneers headed west next to their gold’s and rabbit hats on their heads. i dont know if that’s true but i’m just assuming because i was a simi valley pioneer in high school, those were our colors.
Maroon, sitting there in a maroon jacket on the edge of the rocks, the water’s lips touching her toes with each passing speedboat. Her hair fraying behind her in the salty air, even though it wasn’t really salty, since this was Lake Erie.
Her arms so naturally held behind her that they seem a part of the scene, a part of the rocks. Her eyes brightened, specks of light from the dim sunset, with a flash of recognition and a half-assed “Hello.”
Something is on her mind.
A flash in the sky. A bang. A ratatata of machine guns. A bloody child. A bloody soldier. This is of our doing, of maroon company’s doing. This is war.
The maroon sweater was ugly but comfortable, so he worn it anyway. Besides, the fact that his best friend had given it to him for Christmas was something. That man had always known him better than anyone else. Something to knock around the house in was just the ticket for a cold winter’s morning.
Maroon, not to be mistaken for moron. Nor should it be mistaken for marooned. All of these words have different meaning, however, they could be connected withtthis simple statement. I was marooned on an island after my brand new maroon colored schnoor broke apart during a storm at sea and because I didn’t bring any emergency equipment with me on this three hour tour I am probably going to die on this tiny little island. I am such a moron.
not pink, not red, but somewhere in the middle, like a dark fuschia. it’s like that dress i have that everyone loves. there isn’t really much to say about a colour that lacks specification.
The maroon walls clashed only slightly with the forest green leather couch and chair set. The fireplace and large black TV stood almost side by side, the stairs to the upstairs separating them.
Maroon drips to the floor
Covering the space you walked before.
Everyone cries and declares accident
But this loss of life serves no precedent.
It was suicide, you and I both know;
This was your final act, turned a canceled show.
The sky is a dull gray as he runs out to the hill, slipping on the snow, his raincoat not enough to keep the damp from his skin. When he reaches the top of the hill and looks behind him he sees his pursuers have fallen back into the trees, waiting. He plunges on into the poppies, struggling through the unexpected spring snow.
the maroon scarf flew quickly off her neck as she rode with her friends in the con-veritable corvette, her hands in the air,, shes having the time of her life, her maroon scarf slowly drifts down to the ground as they speed away.
five hours was all i had left in my room. the paper cranes were torn down and streamed across my floor. i felt like i was suffocating. he forced me to kiss him and i forced him out. shoved him out and locked the door. i decided to think, finally, about how i felt. it hurt, so i stared at the wall instead, listening to drunken people outside my window laugh.
The color maroon! A deep shade of red. I also knew this guy named Tim Maroon in 8th grade, who scared the crap out of me because he told me he was Jesus and to bow down to him. At the time I was a very faithful Catholic, and hearing that shit coming out of his mouth made me very angry.
maroon 5….. She will be loved. Just about the only song I like by them. I love the lyrics. Often times people do find them self falling for someone they can’t quite reach.
It didn’t come out red. It was more like… a maroon. The sweater was just too ugly to present it to my mother, I knew what she would say. “My favorite color is red! What the hell is this?”
A maroon blanket with colors of polyester white and dusty azure. It covers me, keeps me safe and warm. But what I have been told is not true; I may leave that comfort, and find that same warmness elsewhere. Long live the red, white, and blue.
The color of my old school. My first school. That, along with gold, were the first colors that I could recognize. The first colors that I knew MEANT something. Because they really did, and still do, mean something. Now, in a sea of red, black, and white; the color maroon haunts me every day and every night. It asks why I left my first school. It wonders if I miss it. It ponders my future. It dwells on my past. Maroon is my past. The beginning of my childhood. Maroon is also the ending of my childhood. As soon as I left my first school, I was thrust into a world of sex, violence, drugs… I was too young for that. I wasn’t ready. I still am not ready. I never will be. But I will always know that maroon will be there to comfort me.
THE TOP OF THE PAGE SAYS ONE WORD. WHAT WAS THE TIME LIMIT AGAIN? DO I HAVE TO WRITE I JUST THOUGHT OF PORTAL 2. IM GETTING ITCHY I GOT MORE TIME THAN I WAS SUPPOSED TO MAYBE OH WELL HAHA ILL JUST WAIT FOR A BIT. I ALMOST WROTE BUTT HAHA WHOOPS I THOUGH I WAS SUPPOSED TO WAIT OH WELL MY HEAD ITCHES MAN.
I have a connection to Maroon 5 with a girl that began at least 8 years ago. I ended up dating her for a little bit, where we fell in and out of what we thought was special. It was, but there’s a part of me that wishes we hadn’t, because now that song, that band, that entire thought that had such a lovely, adolescent emotion tied to it, is now tainted by the real world, by politics, and by the needless pain we went through. It blows…it was a good song, too.
Maroon was my favorite color as a child. Maroon is like a dark red. Maroon 5 is a BA band. I had their song “Harder To Breathe” as a dance song. It was very sexy for a child dance choreography. Maroon sounds like Maureen. Ew.
the dead meat was red behind the clear plastic wrap, the blood maroon. “have you ever had raw meat before?” i teased, and leaned on the shopping cart’s handle. she looked over her shoulder and wrinkled her face in disgust. i prodded the slice of beef one last time before squeaking after her highness.
i felt the fabric of the maroon dress on the rack and imagined myself siting at a fake french restaurant with him, crossing my legs under the white table cloth and laughing at a joke. i imagined him sliding his hand across the fabric after dinner, and whispering something in my ear. then i looked at the price tag and walked away, blushing at the sales clerk.
maroon
marrooned on an island off to sea
too spacious this water can be
like a saucer dipped in catastrophe
you are that to me
please, bring along your chi
sip tea
dwell in songs, words written just for thee
too deep i think.
too deep and i’ve left your standing with a reason not to subside your answers
but a tantamount bit of energy to leave you spotless, spacious.
love me back or i’ll take your hand and make aces with them
take you back to memories of card playing and hems
hem along your broken words to my sleeve
like a broken heart too dumb to not be seen.
Maroon walls, we’d chosen the color for no specific matter, just the color was warm, inviting, and we didn’t want anything too vibrant. Maroon walls surrounding me, and only me now. You left with no goodbye.
maroon lips. tanned skin.
its monsoon season and her hair is down.
the gold around her ankles jingle as she dances to the water.
my heart aches to be the gold intwined in each of her fingers.
The feeling I had been marooned on this thought made me wonder if I could ever get over life as it appears to be at the present. I can’t seem to change me enough to be sincere and happy at the same destination. I guess I will remain on this Island forever. Never a ship to save me. Nor a companion to understand.
THere was a maroon blanket that my mom made me. She gave it to me the day before she left. I still have that blanket. It’s like a little piece of my mom that has stayed with me. Even during the 15 years since she walked out on me, my brother and sister, and my dad. I hate that blanket. I hate it more than anything because it makes me think she loved me but everytime I look at it, I think of her and hope she’s dead. Either way, she’s dead to me.
maroon is a pretty color, it is the color of my car, i am confused as to wether or not maroon and magenta are the samek my alarm just went off in class so it kinda cut me off from writing for 60 seconds iwas very emberassed this sucks my face is all read but the teacher handled it well
maroon velvet, it was her favorite. he didn’t know why. Velvet was kind of old fashioned, and people made fun of her for it. but watching her sit there and run her hands over whatever piece she was wearing was like heaven. her eyes would light up, her skin glowed. she would be at peace with the world.
the day she died, he covered her with the maroon velvet dress she had been oggling in the store, wrapped her up in her favorite blanket and left her on the dock of the dried up river they used to hang out on. an old mattress they had dragged out served as her resting place.
Maroon is a color. I really like it, it’s a dark reddish and purplish but more reddish. It’s actually one of my favorite colors. There’s also the band Maroon 5, which came out with that song “she will be loved”, and i remember when i was a kid and we were coming back from a soccer game on a school bus and everyone was singing it. Maroon… postive energy.
She slowly strummed through the books until she came across the maroon one. Scared, she continued looking, without any remark about this novel, this collection of words.
When I was in elementary school, the school colors were white and maroon. I still have the maroon shirt that i was given when I joined the basketball ‘team.”
I am not a good thinker so obviously I can’t think of what to write about “Maroon.” I guess I’ll start by saying it’s my least favorite color. Maybe I should try out new things and make it my most favorite, or I can just go listen to some Maroon 5. After all they do come from my state. Sigh my state is not a good fit for my state of mind. I think I might not be sane. After all I messed up my original One Word doodah…Oh well!!!!!!!!Maroon rhymes with balloon XD
one word to say all of these things? About wonders and life and confusion? What can I do to improve myself of these inadequate thoughts that describe this one word. Love. I can’t decide on how to take this. I hope that you can somehow figure it out because I know I can’t.
a simple treat at grandma’s house. Maroons, or are they macrols? or macaroons? Something it was simply divine on a sunday morning. A treat for a wonderful child.
maroon is actually one of my favorite colors. the color of arizona state university, the color of something or someone’s passion. the color of the pioneers headed west next to their gold’s and rabbit hats on their heads. i dont know if that’s true but i’m just assuming because i was a simi valley pioneer in high school, those were our colors.
Maroon, sitting there in a maroon jacket on the edge of the rocks, the water’s lips touching her toes with each passing speedboat. Her hair fraying behind her in the salty air, even though it wasn’t really salty, since this was Lake Erie.
Her arms so naturally held behind her that they seem a part of the scene, a part of the rocks. Her eyes brightened, specks of light from the dim sunset, with a flash of recognition and a half-assed “Hello.”
Something is on her mind.
A flash in the sky. A bang. A ratatata of machine guns. A bloody child. A bloody soldier. This is of our doing, of maroon company’s doing. This is war.
The maroon sweater was ugly but comfortable, so he worn it anyway. Besides, the fact that his best friend had given it to him for Christmas was something. That man had always known him better than anyone else. Something to knock around the house in was just the ticket for a cold winter’s morning.
Maroon, not to be mistaken for moron. Nor should it be mistaken for marooned. All of these words have different meaning, however, they could be connected withtthis simple statement. I was marooned on an island after my brand new maroon colored schnoor broke apart during a storm at sea and because I didn’t bring any emergency equipment with me on this three hour tour I am probably going to die on this tiny little island. I am such a moron.
not pink, not red, but somewhere in the middle, like a dark fuschia. it’s like that dress i have that everyone loves. there isn’t really much to say about a colour that lacks specification.
The maroon walls clashed only slightly with the forest green leather couch and chair set. The fireplace and large black TV stood almost side by side, the stairs to the upstairs separating them.
i just got this word i feel jipped. gipped? jyipd? jiped jypped jypd gee-yip-ed.
sadface
Maroon drips to the floor
Covering the space you walked before.
Everyone cries and declares accident
But this loss of life serves no precedent.
It was suicide, you and I both know;
This was your final act, turned a canceled show.
deep reds and dark hardwood floors. expensive leathers matched with purple and red paint. red wine.
The sky is a dull gray as he runs out to the hill, slipping on the snow, his raincoat not enough to keep the damp from his skin. When he reaches the top of the hill and looks behind him he sees his pursuers have fallen back into the trees, waiting. He plunges on into the poppies, struggling through the unexpected spring snow.
the maroon scarf flew quickly off her neck as she rode with her friends in the con-veritable corvette, her hands in the air,, shes having the time of her life, her maroon scarf slowly drifts down to the ground as they speed away.
five hours was all i had left in my room. the paper cranes were torn down and streamed across my floor. i felt like i was suffocating. he forced me to kiss him and i forced him out. shoved him out and locked the door. i decided to think, finally, about how i felt. it hurt, so i stared at the wall instead, listening to drunken people outside my window laugh.
The color maroon! A deep shade of red. I also knew this guy named Tim Maroon in 8th grade, who scared the crap out of me because he told me he was Jesus and to bow down to him. At the time I was a very faithful Catholic, and hearing that shit coming out of his mouth made me very angry.
maroon 5….. She will be loved. Just about the only song I like by them. I love the lyrics. Often times people do find them self falling for someone they can’t quite reach.
It didn’t come out red. It was more like… a maroon. The sweater was just too ugly to present it to my mother, I knew what she would say. “My favorite color is red! What the hell is this?”
A maroon blanket with colors of polyester white and dusty azure. It covers me, keeps me safe and warm. But what I have been told is not true; I may leave that comfort, and find that same warmness elsewhere. Long live the red, white, and blue.
The color of my old school. My first school. That, along with gold, were the first colors that I could recognize. The first colors that I knew MEANT something. Because they really did, and still do, mean something. Now, in a sea of red, black, and white; the color maroon haunts me every day and every night. It asks why I left my first school. It wonders if I miss it. It ponders my future. It dwells on my past. Maroon is my past. The beginning of my childhood. Maroon is also the ending of my childhood. As soon as I left my first school, I was thrust into a world of sex, violence, drugs… I was too young for that. I wasn’t ready. I still am not ready. I never will be. But I will always know that maroon will be there to comfort me.
THE TOP OF THE PAGE SAYS ONE WORD. WHAT WAS THE TIME LIMIT AGAIN? DO I HAVE TO WRITE I JUST THOUGHT OF PORTAL 2. IM GETTING ITCHY I GOT MORE TIME THAN I WAS SUPPOSED TO MAYBE OH WELL HAHA ILL JUST WAIT FOR A BIT. I ALMOST WROTE BUTT HAHA WHOOPS I THOUGH I WAS SUPPOSED TO WAIT OH WELL MY HEAD ITCHES MAN.
I have a connection to Maroon 5 with a girl that began at least 8 years ago. I ended up dating her for a little bit, where we fell in and out of what we thought was special. It was, but there’s a part of me that wishes we hadn’t, because now that song, that band, that entire thought that had such a lovely, adolescent emotion tied to it, is now tainted by the real world, by politics, and by the needless pain we went through. It blows…it was a good song, too.
Maroon was my favorite color as a child. Maroon is like a dark red. Maroon 5 is a BA band. I had their song “Harder To Breathe” as a dance song. It was very sexy for a child dance choreography. Maroon sounds like Maureen. Ew.
maroon on an island
we are
how are we ever going get off the island
help
help please
God please don’t leave us
hear our plea
the dead meat was red behind the clear plastic wrap, the blood maroon. “have you ever had raw meat before?” i teased, and leaned on the shopping cart’s handle. she looked over her shoulder and wrinkled her face in disgust. i prodded the slice of beef one last time before squeaking after her highness.
i felt the fabric of the maroon dress on the rack and imagined myself siting at a fake french restaurant with him, crossing my legs under the white table cloth and laughing at a joke. i imagined him sliding his hand across the fabric after dinner, and whispering something in my ear. then i looked at the price tag and walked away, blushing at the sales clerk.
maroon
marrooned on an island off to sea
too spacious this water can be
like a saucer dipped in catastrophe
you are that to me
please, bring along your chi
sip tea
dwell in songs, words written just for thee
too deep i think.
too deep and i’ve left your standing with a reason not to subside your answers
but a tantamount bit of energy to leave you spotless, spacious.
love me back or i’ll take your hand and make aces with them
take you back to memories of card playing and hems
hem along your broken words to my sleeve
like a broken heart too dumb to not be seen.
Maroon walls, we’d chosen the color for no specific matter, just the color was warm, inviting, and we didn’t want anything too vibrant. Maroon walls surrounding me, and only me now. You left with no goodbye.
maroon lips. tanned skin.
its monsoon season and her hair is down.
the gold around her ankles jingle as she dances to the water.
my heart aches to be the gold intwined in each of her fingers.
The feeling I had been marooned on this thought made me wonder if I could ever get over life as it appears to be at the present. I can’t seem to change me enough to be sincere and happy at the same destination. I guess I will remain on this Island forever. Never a ship to save me. Nor a companion to understand.
THere was a maroon blanket that my mom made me. She gave it to me the day before she left. I still have that blanket. It’s like a little piece of my mom that has stayed with me. Even during the 15 years since she walked out on me, my brother and sister, and my dad. I hate that blanket. I hate it more than anything because it makes me think she loved me but everytime I look at it, I think of her and hope she’s dead. Either way, she’s dead to me.
maroon is a pretty color, it is the color of my car, i am confused as to wether or not maroon and magenta are the samek my alarm just went off in class so it kinda cut me off from writing for 60 seconds iwas very emberassed this sucks my face is all read but the teacher handled it well
maroon velvet, it was her favorite. he didn’t know why. Velvet was kind of old fashioned, and people made fun of her for it. but watching her sit there and run her hands over whatever piece she was wearing was like heaven. her eyes would light up, her skin glowed. she would be at peace with the world.
the day she died, he covered her with the maroon velvet dress she had been oggling in the store, wrapped her up in her favorite blanket and left her on the dock of the dried up river they used to hang out on. an old mattress they had dragged out served as her resting place.
its a beautiful color. a mixture of blood and dirt. combines elements of magic used for potions and spells.
Maroon is a color. I really like it, it’s a dark reddish and purplish but more reddish. It’s actually one of my favorite colors. There’s also the band Maroon 5, which came out with that song “she will be loved”, and i remember when i was a kid and we were coming back from a soccer game on a school bus and everyone was singing it. Maroon… postive energy.
She slowly strummed through the books until she came across the maroon one. Scared, she continued looking, without any remark about this novel, this collection of words.
A family friend once told me: he feels marooned. Lost in a sea of mortgage. Forever thrown about by working limbo. Storms of debt.
Her head hung high as the mother delicately braided the maroon hair.
“Are ya done yet?” softly spoke the girl. No response.