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Denny Hall Luke Bigsby Mariah Cords Mrs. Johnson English 11 14 March 2013 Deceiving Tale The Prologue In the class of 92', It was hard to be askew. A close knit group of friends, It was easy to make amends. Ten years apart it was time for a reunion. On a clear summer night in the middle of June, The laughter and memories will soon be renewed. After graduation they went their separate ways, Forgetting each other in a blurry haze.

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Some returning successful, Others lives are rather stressful. Three come back seeming somewhat normal, But their jobs and lifestyles are a bit informal. There was a musician, A man with a voice so pure, As if it was the cure. Songs with battle cry's, Foreseeing through his lies. Leather pants and fur coat of elegance, Ask him to sing, he'll take offence. He once could be true, He was of the norm too. Look at his fortune and fame, But can he live up to his game. Has is fans on a leach, Which is always in his reach.

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A musician with a voice, More like a kid who made a poor choice. At this reunion to enjoy memories, But were the memories so fond? But he is a boy in the costume of a man With an appearance of a hero. With a team of technicians of audio, Masking the true form. While behind the buttons and nobs on the board His voice a disease, Infecting everyone whom chooses to believe. His mommas got to be proud, His voice in fine tune the world would know soon. Walking with flow, But do people really know? He only cares about the income, Not about who comes from miles to listen until he's done.

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There was a house hold mother. An average house hold soccer mom, With a cute little son whose name is Tom. Hiring sitters, while she goes out at night, Little do they know she goes out to fight. Her intentions to be smart, And as quick as a dart. Murdering an important person with a surprise attack, Never showing any slack. With her hidden beauty, brown hair and green eyes, As small as a model and very wise. Quiet and sneaky she can be, But a soccer mom is all you see. Driving her son to the school, With her Minnie van looking so cool. Making her way to all her sons games, But throughout the night she kicks butt and takes names.

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And there was a cop. Doughnuts and guns are his stereotype, Stealing and lying is his job by night. A cop in his peaceful cities eyes, But a criminal in his own destructive demise. Coffee in the morning with his partner by his side, But no one knows the secret he must hide. In his family of four they truly adore, No one could possibly suspect anymore. A patrol car is a disguise, A getaway car is where he thrives. Tall, dark, a good looking fellow, With an attitude some might say was mellow. With his fine characteristics no one would think, That he has a second "job" for his financial cinch. At the reunion it's hard to act formal, When one of your jobs is far from normal.

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The class of friends tells stories through the night, Seeing who will win the story telling fight.

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The Musicians Tale The musician started to reminisce on a time, Where he would take a chance at the drop of a dime. The first shot at fame, The outcome was truly lame. A performance to be made, When the time began to fade. To the place he had arrived, The confidence for the audition deprived. Walk inside what did he find, Something unexpected and unkind. A dark room, Nothing in sight but an old broken broom. The next thing that happens, Something that saddens Opens the door To an apartment with nothing but walls and a floor

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A robbery that has taken place Right under the nose on his surprised face With the shock on his face he thought to call his mother But then again why bother A feeling of shame All for a small shot at fame Was it worth all the pain For the shot that came Then was gone in the blink of an eye Wondering why It happened to him. -Luke Bigsby

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The Mothers Tale The average house hold mom, cheered for her son Who's name is Tom, and second to none He took a shot at the net The team sprinted as fast as a jet Scoring the winning goal Dug them out of the hole Tom was his name Who scored the winning point of his game So pretty and nice was Marylou A glance at her, people would drool With her long brown hair Flowing in the air Her sparkling green eyes Small waste and small thighs As if she was as skinny as a model Her engines at full throttle In charge is a sitter with telescopic sight Who comes at night, Leaving in her Minnie van Meeting up with her clan No one knows she goes out to fight

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Quiet and sneaky she can be But a soccer mom is all you see Marylou is rather smart And as quick as a dart With a surprise attack Wearing all black Killing important people Making her equal Her name is Mary Lou She knows what to do A soccer mom is what you see With a son, who lives by the sea, An assassin by heart She will never part.

-Mariah Cords

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The Cops Tale My story is a bit revealing, But I feel I need some healing. With a family of four, money seems to roll out the door. Being a cop doesn't cut is sometimes, But I truly feel guilty committing crimes. Morally yes I know it is wrong, But money seems to write my song. My family is what I'm all about, I don't want to see my wife and daughters pout, Which is why I do what I do, It's important to me that I come through. If I could stop today? Of course I would stray. I arrest criminals, The last thing I want to be is an avid hypocrite. The guilt that it brings is strong, I just don't know how I can carry on. If I got caught in the act, I'd be stabbing my family in the back.

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I just can't deal with that, which is why starting now, this is resigning to my past. I will be a better dad, And make my beautiful wife glad. Money only fuels happiness, Love can eternally sustain it. I promise to change my ways, And love my family for the rest of my days.

-Denny Hall