IZZY SONG FIC:

Dear Mr. President

Tempest and I are doing a contest and we're seeing who can get more reviews for her version of which song fic. So here ya go. This is my version! Thanks! Oh, yeah, I don't own the song. P!nk does. Yeah. Hehe.

Dear Mr. President,

Come take a walk with me.

Let's pretend we're just two people and

You're not better than me.

I'd like to ask you some questions if we can speak honestly.

What do you feel when you see all the homeless on the street?

Who do you pray for at night before you go to sleep?

What do you feel when you look in the mirror?

Are you proud?

How do you sleep while the rest of us cry?

How do you dream when a mother has no chance to say goodbye?

How do you walk with your head held high?

Can you even look me in the eye

And tell me why?

Dear Mr. President,

Were you a lonely boy?

Are you a lonely boy?

Are you a lonely boy?

How can you say

No child is left behind?

We're not dumb and we're not blind.

They're all sitting in your cells

While you pave the road to hell.

What kind of father would take his own daughter's rights away?

And what kind of father might hate his own daughter if she were gay?

I can only imagine what the first lady has to say

You've come a long way from whiskey and cocaine.

How do you sleep while the rest of us cry?

How do you dream when a mother has no chance to say goodbye?

How do you walk with your head held high?

Can you even look me in the eye?

Let me tell you 'bout hard work

Minimum wage with a baby on the way

Let me tell you 'bout hard work

Rebuilding your house after the bombs took them away

Let me tell you 'bout hard work

Building a bed out of a cardboard box

Let me tell you 'bout hard work

Hard work

Hard work

You don't know nothing 'bout hard work

Hard work

Hard work

Oh

How do you sleep at night?

How do you walk with your head held high?

Dear Mr. President,

You'd never take a walk with me.

Would you?

Max POV

It was nighttime when I took my walk. We were in Washington D.C. again, and the streets were surprisingly empty. Then again, everywhere was surprisingly empty as of late. Fang had said that I should go for a walk. Because I was getting depressed and he knew the night always made me feel better; that and alone time. So I was talking a walk. I know he probably meant flight, but a walk would be better. It didn't matter, anyways- I had my wings half spread and no one would care They'd gotten over the wings thing, anyways.

"Long night." I murmured to the man walking next to me. He was wearing slacks and a button up t-shirt, hands in his pockets as he looked at the sky as if he wanted to fly away, too.

"Aren't they all?" He murmured back, not looking at me. But suddenly he started to look very familiar. I tried not to gasp. I was standing next to the president of the U.S.A. and he didn't look too much different than your average business man on the street. I assumed he was trying to get away from it all for a while.

"You know, people aren't doing so well." I whispered, still looking straight forward.

"I know that." He replied, a strange tone in his voice. Almost as if he was slightly amused with the fact that I might possibly not know he was the president.

"Everyone has to do something, you know."

"What does that mean?" he asked, still not looking at me directly.

"That you wanted your job. So do it. And do it well."

"My job is hard, little girl."

"No. You know what's hard? Having multiple kids and being pregnant, knowing that if you don't get up and go to work that your kids will starve while some alcoholic gets paid for begging." I spat. "And it's hard for homeless kids, like myself, to have to find a place to sleep. Hard work? Hard work is making a bed out of a tree or a cave or a cardboard box. Hard work is feeding five other kids and myself plus a dog. Dumpster-diving is hard." I stopped before I could get too worked up. I was sixteen, it wasn't my job to correct everyone's mistakes. "How do you still look at yourself in the mirror knowing that so many people HERE are going without?" I shook my head.

"I'm- I try. I can't do anything about everyone individually…" He whispered.

"There are people who help. They get nothing in return, but they try. What kind of world are we living in if we can't even worry about the people who deserve it?" I was gulping down tears.

"I don't know." He sounded as close to tears as I was. "I can't do it!" He burst out. "I can't do this!"

"Then you should have thought about that before promising to make us a better country." I said quietly; it was a low blow and he flinched.

"You-"

"What do you feel when you see that?" I gestured to a big refrigerator box, open side pointed at a building. He frowned.

"See what? Litter?"

"No." I said, stepping closer and digging deep into my pocket. I pulled out the two twenties my mom had given me for Christmas. I handed them to the woman in the box, who was with three sleeping children. She looked up at me, face red. She was embarrassed; she had to do this and she couldn't provide for her family. I understood. "This." I said, gesturing at him to come over. The woman frowned, then saw his face and frowned deeper. "Would you like to say anything?" I asked quietly. She looked at me with tear filled eyes, mouthed "thank you" and turned toward her youngest son, who looked about three and a half. The president looked stricken, so I lead him away.

"How does that make you feel, big boy?"

"I…well I'm human, kid. Of course it makes me feel bad. But what am I supposed to do?"

"Something." I whispered. "Put up homes that families can go into. You give homes to recovering drug addicts, but not for families that can't afford to get a house? Halfway houses would work that way, too. Big houses that can fit like two or more families." I said, actually getting on a roll now. "And you can set up jobs for people who can't find one. Good jobs, not jobs where they'll have to be away from their families all the time. So they can earn money and eventually get on their feet!" The man beside me was actually smiling.

"I think I like this world you're creating, Maximum." I frowned, getting ready to take off into the air.

"What? How'd you know my name?" I asked tersely, my body rim-rod straight. He frowned at me now.

"What do you mean?" I pulled my wings in. He hadn't really looked at them, anyways.

"My name, it's Max."

"I was just saying that I like your idea a lot. Max." He said, frowning. Oh. I felt dumb now.

"Oh. Well I still think you should give it a try."

"Give what a try?" he asked, looking at me for the first time. He seemed to recognize me for real, now. He mouthed, Maximum Ride.

"Being a real leader." I said slowly. "Making real choices and real decisions." I waved and started in the other direction, heading back to the camp I was staying at with the flock.

By the time I got back, the sun was up. Gazzy and Angel, looking very upset and happy at the same time, came running out and hugged me around the waist. It didn't matter that they were dirty and hungry, and probably underweight, they were excited to see me. I hugged them back.

"Max we were worried!" Angel said, her eight-year-old eyes looking so much older than that. Gazzy, at age ten, looked about thirteen, he was so tall now. I kissed his hair. Nudge came out next, smiling at me. She was thirteen, and my height now. I kissed her fluffy hair, then squeezed Iggy's arm, which had recently been layered with wiry muscles. He was too skinny though, and pale but covered with a thin sheen of dirt. At last Fang appeared, looking blank faced except the worry in his eyes. He gathered me in a hug and I melted against him, sighing. I wanted to cry, but I decided to wait until we were alone.

"What'd you do while you were gone?" he asked into my hair, kissing my temple.

"I don't think you'd believe me if I told you." I let out a half hysterical laugh.

3rd person Mr. President "POV"

The girl, Maximum Ride, hadn't gone to a house after their talk. He'd followed her to make sure she got home all right. She went straight to the edge of a forest, where two little blond kids had run out, giving her a hug and smiling widely. They looked so happy, yet they appeared to have nothing. And that money Max had given to that family…didn't she need it for her family? A darker girl came out, about Max's height but younger in the face. Then a tall boy about 6'6" tall emerged, dirty as well, but happy. The last boy was 6'3 with a strong jaw and olive skin, black hair, dark eyes. He hugged Max, too, but even the ole' president could tell that it was a different type of hug.

They were happy, a happy little family, and the oldest two were in love. How? How could they be so happy and so purely good in their situation? Then they all put on backpacks, picked up a little black Scottie and shook out huge bird wings from their jackets. The take-off left him gaping and rethinking his plan of what to do in his presidency.

So… all's well that ends well. I know, sappy, but cute. I think. Temps will make you cry, I guarant