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October 2016

In The Woods

In the woods my heart does dwell,
Where sun and shadows greet each other,
Where streams and lakes seem to glow,
Doves and bluebirds harmonize,
That is the place I know,
In the woods.

In the woods, the place I call haven
A place where fox and deer run,
The wolves and coyotes roam,
The sun kisses the earth twice a day,
That is the place I know,
In the woods.

In the woods, where warm greets the cold,
The shadows lurk, hiding from light,
The sky that reaches to the universe,
The earth that’s filled with decay yet life,
That is the place I know,
In the woods.

© 2016 Maddie Y.
Athens City Middle School
Athens TN
Grade 6

October 2016

Halloween is the time of year
Little monsters everywhere,
Ghost, ghouls, witches too
Trick or treat door to door

End of a road is a wishing well
Throw a coin in
But my coins are Halloween coins
You should think of your wish before I scream at midnight
Run on your little legs
Go to bed so Halloween is done

© 2016 Kennedy S.
Wallace Elementary School
Kokomo IN
Grade 3

July 2016

I close the door so many times
and I can’t help but think as the hour bell chimes
the reason why I lock the door
is it what’s inside the outside or more
people often argue that I close the door to hide
but no one ever comes to so what lurks inside
no one really knows why we close the door
yet no one’s ever thought to ask someone before
and now I finally say what secretly lurks behind
it’s a dark and dangerous place and that place has always been mine

© 2016 Hailey J.
Dozier Middle School
Newport News VA
Grade 6

June 2015

Suffering

Rotting from the inside, I’m sure the stench has got you wondering, “what happened?”
How do you deteriorate undercover?
How do you look fine but feel as if you’re dying?
Well, I’m melting from the core,
I’m certain you can find evidence of suffering, dripping from every corner of the fake smile …

I blame it on the poetry,
I blame it on every fragment of every word I’ve every written.
Pen to paper, paper to blog, blog to paper, paper to depression.
I smile while I voluntarily die
And mystery majestically dines
Abandonment for the plain and broken.
With every motion of my pen, I fall victim to further decay:
And if my poetry is to blame,
Then it’s a pain I’m more than willing to endure.

© 2015 Phumelele Kubeka
University of Pretoria
Pretoria, Gauteng
Undergraduate

June 2015

Change

Change is heavy,
but we lift the
the weights of
change to train,

But no matter
how much we
can lift,

Change will
make you
weak,

There’s no
way to
prepare,

The only
way to prepare
for change,

Is to be
open to
Change.

© 2015 Gracie J.
North Fork Montessori
Crawford, CO
Grade 6

June 2015

I Can’t Write a Poem

Forget it!
I don’t have my writing notebook
I don’t now how
I can’t come up with anything
My hand hurts
My dog ate my paper
I don’t know the alphabet
I can’t think of any writing words
My water bottle spilled on my paper
I think poetry is weird
My baby sister tore my paper in half
My doctor says I can’t use my right hand or my left
and …………
IT’S TOO LOUD!
Time’s up? Uh Oh!
All I have is this dumb list of excuses.
You like it? Really?
Thanks a lot! Would you like to see another one?

© 2015 Sydney W.
Fairview Elementary School
Monroe, NC
Grade 5

May 2015

Distance

The distance between you and I
can be measured by the lack of conversations we share,
that end on a good note.

Whenever there is an exchange of words,
our voices would start to boom and compete with the sound of thunder.
Causing the ground to shake and tremble beneath our feet.

Our faces would turn bright red and eyebrows tilt.
Our jaws clamp tight but lips would raise
to bare our pearly whites, turning us into dogs,
battling for dominance.

Our eyes are absent of compassion,
holding rage and agitation within them.
Both fists clenched ready to swing
as if we were in an boxing arena
where no rules applied.

Our brains do not correctly process
the words that crawl out of our own mouths
making us announce things we don’t
mean to say.

The distance between you and I
will be measured by the number of miles
I will drive away from you.

© 2015 Destiny Q.
Commack High School
Commack, NY
Grade 10

May 2015

Every night at 7 o’clock on the dot
no buts mister,
I take a bath.
A fruity smelling,
bubbly,
bath.

What my mom doesn’t know,
is that my bathtub is really a pirate ship.
I’m the captain of course.
Sailing the seven seas,
and doing what pirates do.
I capture the sharks,
whose fins poke out of the foam.
And I make them walk the plank.

My mom says that I shouldn’t splash,
and I need to hold still so she can wash my hair.
She doesn’t understand that
my pirate crew doesn’t wait.
So I
just keep on sailing.

© 2015 Megan C.
Tarpon Springs Middle School
Tarpon Springs, FL
Grade 8

May 2015

Sky dark, big, dull.
Honey and pine in the air.
Shooting star crossing the creek,
Leaves rustling, moon bright, brilliant, clear,
Moon in the shape of a smile, a laugh I cannot hear.

© 2015 Regan H.
Wilson Elementary School
Wilson, WY
Grade 4

May 2015

My Peach

I picked a peach,
My mom was mad,
But, of course, I was glad!

I wanted two pieces of peach,
But my mom said we could only have one each.
This time I was mad and my mom was glad!

I was mad because we could only have one piece each.
My mom was glad because my one peach was all we had.

© 2015 Chloe R.
Robert Louis Stevenson School
Carmel, CA
Grade 2