Young Writer, Deep Mind

Charles McGill is  16 year old Junior at Jennings Senior High School. A talented track athlete, Charles is also passionate about the written word. “I write about things such as relationships, political issues, international issues, conspiracy theories, motivational poems, love poems, and i also write short stories. I have written an autobiography, but I have yet to get it published because I do not know anyone in the publishing business or where to go to start.” With plans of strengthening his writing in college, Charles is an accomplished young man with a bright and prosperous future ahead of him! Please enjoy a couple of samples of his short stories and poems. Lets uplift and Support Him! 





Quiet Woman

A woman sat, she sat and listened. Listened to a man tell her what she could not be or do. A husband, degrading his woman. Putting her down for days, months, and years to come. Until the woman rises above the man, she can not rise above the world. Until she realizes this man doesn’t want her to make it, she will fail. Our women our strong and should be honored. Who told a woman they can only be a woman? Injustice speaks while peace and harmony is overwhelmed. The women of today are the women of our future. Build them strong and let them roam. It is a woman’s world just as much as it is a man’s. Injustice shall be silent.


I Am Man

I am man, capable of achieving greatness, power, and wealth. I am man, capable of seeing all things separately from the next man. I am man, I have acquired strengths and weaknesses, likes and dislikes, and questions and answers. I am man,  I have seen the peaceful land only in my dreams. This is where i wish to dwell. On this land, nothing shall harm me. I will breathe the fresh air of serenity, I will feel the warmth of the honest sun, and i will embrace the gentle winds that slightly glide against my skin as i sit and watch the world move. I am man, I have dreams of a better place, I have thoughts of peace and harmony, and I have the will to fight for it while i am still here as a living being on earth. I am man, hear me speak…I am man, hear me speak.



A voice runs deep beneath a silent forest, echoing. “Help!” It repeats throughout a matter of minutes. The voice comes and goes, each time echoing for a longer period of time. The birds fly together over the tall trees, and the snakes slither through the thick grass, while this voice cries. It cries for help, pleading for God’s forgiveness. “What have I done to deserve this” the voice announces to the motionless forest. The animals had gone still, the wind no longer blew, and the clouds in the sky had settled. The only thing moving was the echo. Bouncing off of tree trunk to tree trunk. Rising into the sky and plunging back down to earth. No matter the direction the echo went, there was never a change. A man sits on the opposite side of the forest from where the voice appears to be coming from. His side of the forest has food, water, and shelter. He has a surplus of it all. He listens but doesn’t reply to the echo, nor does he move, leaving the voice helpless on the empty side of the forest where food is either poisonous or scarce, and water is no where in sight, while he lives in luxury. Why does an echo not receive change? Because to those who have it all, an echo is just an echo.  But the voice of the echo knows it as a plea for help, nothing more, nothing less. Life seems to pick who receives good fortune, but we decide to listen to what life tells us to do with it. Change comes from a helpful heart, while ignorance comes from the mind of a selfish man. From nowhere a man emerges in front of the selfish man. “I am God, and you ignored my plea when I gave you treasure” This goes to show how an echo can be a life changing message.



I sit in a desk for a majority of my day. At times i watch the rain pour onto the streets & parking lots. I think about why one raindrop can’t reveal a reflection, but a bunch of them can. They form a puddle. I wonder why a raindrop is so useless by itself, but so powerful in a group. I’m curious about why a raindrop splatters silently against a window alone, but forces sound to increase when there are a number of them. As i sit in my desk, i begin to wish i had the heart of a rainstorm. Thunderous, powerful, courageous, & free willed. A raindrop? Worthless, but a rainstorm? Unstoppable by man.