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"Age"

Featured Poetry
"Where I'm From"
"For My People"
"Raised By"

Just Nine

4/25/2020

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Picture
By: Qyana Etienne, 8th Grade

​Sugar rushes,

Heart eyed, crazy crushes,
Bright yellow buses,
6:00 am alarms,
Always making fusses.

Huge mind and enormous imagination,
 Anywhere my mind takes me is my new destination,
Too excited wind blown in my hair,
Don’t worry I love fun I’ll already be there.

I’m in the fast lane,
The rhythm in my head pumping blood to my veins,
I was just nine, what is there to control?
I'd rather stay young than to die old.

Living my life in this great world,
Just a cute little curly headed girl,
Running faster than the wind,
Trip, crashing to the floor,
I couldn’t stand the pain, didn’t want to see the gore.
 
I cry,
Blood dripping from my knee,
Tears rushing from my eyes.

I’ll get over it, we’ll have fun,
Everything will be just fine,
Not aware,
Such a short mind,
After all,
​I am just 9.

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First Day Of School

4/25/2020

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Picture
By: Damian Thomas, 8th Grade

​First day of school,
The room was green,
The tiles were washed out,

I lived to play
I even got bruise,
That stung like a thousand bees,

Cuts that burned like lava,
Burning through your skin

But it was okay.

I lived for the food,
The chicken that would make you dribble like a river,
The rotti that could make your heart stop
At every bite.


I lived for the thrill,
Of those summer days,
Those hot days,
When you felt like you were in a sauna.


I loved to travel,
I would go to Florida in the summer,
I would walk around all day,
Until my legs felt like they were amputated,

Go to the pool the next day,
Until my skin shriveled up.


Sometimes I listened to nature,
The world is full of green,
I hear the birds chirping a light melody,
I hear the teeth of a squirrel chipping away at a nut,
How I love nature.

When it was time to go back I was always in my feelings,
But I knew I would have to.

As I get older my feelings become more hidden, 
Locked inside,
Like a safe locked away from the world.

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Fifth Year

4/25/2020

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Picture
By: Durjaya Persaud, 8th Grade

​I am in the winter of my fifth year.
                                        

My days of my old school come to an end
For a new kindergarten experience

Bye to small brown wooden desk
Welcome to gray round tables shared by five people

Everything's different, not just white walls with numbers
But orange with a bit of blue 

And halls filled with kind faces,
Everyone hearing the wind ringing in their ears,

Everyone grinning at the sight of my new beginning,
Just happy to see another new face.


Everyone wearing an orange shirt,
Lots of signs on the walls saying

“Get your knowledge to get ready for college.”
Soon, smiles on everyone's faces,
Even mine seeing joy on many faces.

Getting on line to go outside, as its snowing 
Everybody throwing snowballs,
I made mine with no gloves,

Carving it with my bare hands,
Trying to maneuver the flying snowballs,
It was freezing but I was having to much fun.


Soon we head inside,
Up three flights of stairs,
Looking down from the top,

Made me realize just how high up we were.

Everybody had fun, now school is almost done,
Then we're going home,
​And the moon is always out,
Glowing in the deep dark sky,

Then going to sleep,
Dreaming of the days to come,
And afternoons of having fun.

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Kindergarten

4/25/2020

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Picture
By: Diana Atinsola, 8th Grade

​I’m in the fall of my fifth year

I’m at a fresh start in Kindergarten 
We’re all crowded around the huge multi-colored rug,
In the center of the floor,

Listening to a read-a-loud from the teacher.
Nobody can sit still
Trying our best to get comfortable
While sitting in criss-cross-applesauce.

It’s time for art
We’re all confused on what to do
And who to talk to
All with a puzzled look on our faces
Until the brave asks the shy one,
 “Do you wanna be my friend?”

It’s time for lunch
Everyone is scattered around at their class table
The lucky ones have made friends 
The shy ones are listening in on the conversation without making any comments
All conversations sound the same and start with the same question, 
“What’s your favorite color?”
It’s time to go home
We see all the cars and school buses driving up
The teachers are calling out for the students who take the blue bus
We’re running up to our parents
To tell them everything about this new place we call  kindergarten
They all ask “How was school? Make any new friends?”

It’s time to sleep
We lay awake
Thinking of all we did and everything we could’ve done
All the new faces we saw
And we finally fall asleep
While thinking about all of the endless possibilities.

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  • Home
  • Poetry
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  • Short Stories
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  • HOW TO SUBMIT