"A poet dares to be just so clear and no clearer... He unzips the veil from beauty, but does not remove it. A poet utterly clear is a trifle glaring."
-E.B. White
-E.B. White
Dear Fab Five,
The 5 of you made teaching in a pandemic worth it! You are talented, creative, and brave enough to share your stories. Keep writing because the world needs your voices!!! -Mrs. Guynes
Ode to Moby Dick
by Sam Blakeney, Michiah Gill, Madalyn Mitchell, Marianna Sellers, Dylan Taylor
Started off in the town of Nantucket
We learned everyone on the Essex kicked the bucket
Ahab survived
Only one left alive
Moby took his leg
Now he wants to see him die
Ahab is the captain
Now he needs a crew
So all the town’s men come and see what they can do
Ishmael went from being a teacher
To a whale killer
Hopped aboard the Pequod with Queequeg for a thriller
Crazy man warned em’
Told them they were doomed
But they ignored him
and grabbed their harpoons
They set off on the ocean
Goin’ on a mission
Ahab failed to mention
He had different intentions
He offered up a gold coin as a reward
To the first one that spotted Moby Dick as they explored
Waintn’ in the nest for the white whale to show
Ishmael spots him and says, “there she blows”
Starbuck, a man of faith
and the first mate
He didn’t trust Ahab or fall for his bait
Starbuck warned em’
Told them they were doomed
But they ignored him
And grabbed their harpoons
Went out searching for a white whale in a Black Sea in a black night
Then out of nowhere Pip is out of sight
They want to search for him but Ahab won’t have it
Queequeg stood up for Pip and said, “That would be mad magic”
The Pequod is on thin ice as they fight for their lives
They follow Moby through a frozen hell
All because of a wicked whale
They avoid the ice but come across The Rachel
Their captain was unstable
Looking for his son, asked for Ahab’s aid
Ahab said “no” and continued his crazy crusade
Ahab got two harpoons and stabbed Moby Dick
In anger of his lost limb, he gave Moby a little lick
He upset Moby, the great white whale
Moby killed Ahab then set off to attack the sail
All the men die on this sad sad date
But the Rachel saved Ishmael only by fate
The crew failed and Moby lives on with his Glory
Now this day is Moby’s and it will go down as (his)tory
by Sam Blakeney, Michiah Gill, Madalyn Mitchell, Marianna Sellers, Dylan Taylor
Started off in the town of Nantucket
We learned everyone on the Essex kicked the bucket
Ahab survived
Only one left alive
Moby took his leg
Now he wants to see him die
Ahab is the captain
Now he needs a crew
So all the town’s men come and see what they can do
Ishmael went from being a teacher
To a whale killer
Hopped aboard the Pequod with Queequeg for a thriller
Crazy man warned em’
Told them they were doomed
But they ignored him
and grabbed their harpoons
They set off on the ocean
Goin’ on a mission
Ahab failed to mention
He had different intentions
He offered up a gold coin as a reward
To the first one that spotted Moby Dick as they explored
Waintn’ in the nest for the white whale to show
Ishmael spots him and says, “there she blows”
Starbuck, a man of faith
and the first mate
He didn’t trust Ahab or fall for his bait
Starbuck warned em’
Told them they were doomed
But they ignored him
And grabbed their harpoons
Went out searching for a white whale in a Black Sea in a black night
Then out of nowhere Pip is out of sight
They want to search for him but Ahab won’t have it
Queequeg stood up for Pip and said, “That would be mad magic”
The Pequod is on thin ice as they fight for their lives
They follow Moby through a frozen hell
All because of a wicked whale
They avoid the ice but come across The Rachel
Their captain was unstable
Looking for his son, asked for Ahab’s aid
Ahab said “no” and continued his crazy crusade
Ahab got two harpoons and stabbed Moby Dick
In anger of his lost limb, he gave Moby a little lick
He upset Moby, the great white whale
Moby killed Ahab then set off to attack the sail
All the men die on this sad sad date
But the Rachel saved Ishmael only by fate
The crew failed and Moby lives on with his Glory
Now this day is Moby’s and it will go down as (his)tory
Hayden Pilkinton
Sweet Mary Anne
In Vietnam we worked as medics to aid
Those who were injured in battle or maimed
But it was rather dull, for we’d not seen
A doll in ages, homesick we’d been
Until Mark called in his girl, Mary Anne
From Cleveland to Saigon, so it began
The story of the war’s siren song
Told in the tale of the Sweetheart of the Song Tra Bong…
A lass so young and bright and dear
To Mark, scarred and harrowed here
Did come so she might kiss his wounds
They were happy for not all of two moons
She was a doll with candy eyes
That smiled at the handsome guys
So bleak a land that marred them so
Became a land where flowers grow
Though we looked on with a longing gaze
She’d only eyes for her fiancé
Like that they laughed and joked around for
A week or two, then ran aground
The lovebirds fluttered and chirped away
But no longer could she stand at bay
“Take me, let me see the land of war”
And Mark relented, took her to the shore
Of a village not far from the army encampment
To see the little children running wild and rampant
Despite the war, that made mountains bleed
She looked on, didn’t flinch, and would never heed
‘Nam was not a forgiving place
But she smiled and showed everyone such grace
An angel she was, with wings of a dove
A dream, a doll, Mark’s true love
But a dream it was, as she stayed for two weeks
The Mary Anne that Mark ran to greet
Then change settled slowly, like a frost over life
His little flower grew distant and strife
Ensued, a quarrel between the lovers dear
“Oh Anne, Mary Anne, please don’t stay here!”
A foot was stomped and a shoulder turned
And, just like that, the red thread was burned
For this was where their future stopped
Mark cried, he did, with no care for the clock
Three weeks it’d been, and it crumbled apart
This little banter shredded poor Mark’s heart
“A girl, a doll, that’s all she is”
Mark thought, sure that she’d always be his.
“I may be lost, but there’s now way she can be,
I’ll fight with all I’ve got” said Mark desperately
Mary Anne relented, for a time at least
Complacent and docile, the fighting soon ceased
But cold was the girl who’d once been so kind
Mark had been strict with her, set a line
A line she crossed within a week
Thus his little flower, so thin and meek
Grew leaves of three and berries red
And left her foes speechless and dead
Away she ran, from Mark and life
To hunt and live on the rush of strife
Despite despair and anguish and fear
Young Mark did say “I’ll wait for her all year”
So there he sat by the little shack
Hands on his face and curled hunchback
The sounds of man so sad and confused
“My friend, poor Mark, what can I do?”
He did not reply, so I sat with him there
He’d become disheveled, with unruly hair
But despite his broken heart, he stood up, so tall
And, with only hope, and a hand on the wall
He knocked, a soft tap and a pause, scared at first
But then , hand clenched, in a wild outburst
He slammed hard, with a fist, tears falling, sobbing cried
“Mary Anne, Mary Anne, please dear, I’ve tried
Why have you run away, come out now, Mary Anne!”…
His voice cracked, and he shook as he grabbed the doorknob
With a glance and a step and a muffled sob
I stepped forward, curious, but scared as could be
And saw, in the shadows, Mary Anne, but she
Didn’t smile, didn’t blink, and without a single word
Looked on, didn’t speak, and as though perturbed
She stood still, unmoving, so cold and foreign now
But finally she spoke, and, with a furrowed brow
Said “Mark, you’re in a place where you do not belong”
And gestured to it all, the hootch, the land, ‘Nam
With a final goodbye in the form a smile, she said
“I’m home, Mark… I’m me, Mark, so leave, go back to bed.”
And so he did, he left, but said after we’d gone
“Do something, I can’t let her go, not like this-” “come on”
I interrupted, giving him a nudge, a push away from his former love
And so we trudged on, Mark now a flightless dove
For he didn’t realize that Mary Anne was no more,
An innocent little lass, she’d been mistaken for
But a mistake it was, to call in Mary Anne
“I’ll get to see my girl, get a kiss” had been the plan
Mark never realized that ‘Nam caused a change
In people, despite gender, despite race, despite age
Mary Anne included, but that he did not see
When he ran out to greet her, so full of glee
I think it was when she was curious, it all began
Learning to shoot, to hunt, to help, Mary Anne
Said “Take me, let me see the land of war”
And thus Mary Anne was lost forevermore
Off to School
by Hayden Pilkinton
Off to school we go, hand in hand
To a prison, a palace, or a fairytale land
You go were you go, every place different to each
Dependent on us, our mood, and our teach
I see it as no special place
sometimes a prison, sometimes a race
and yet still there’s the days when I feel like a queen
then there’s others where I think I can’t be seen
Monday’s a clip straight out of a movie
Only thing that keeps me up is music, groovy
in tune and in beat; sometimes I tap my feet
But time is long and attention is fleet
Tuesday is when things pick up a bit
Homework does too, giving us another hit
But we can roll with it, and sometimes it’s not bad
Monday’s rather gloomy, but Tuesday’s just kinda sad
Wednesday is humpday, we’re halfway through the week
Time to celebrate, play with your friends, but don’t speak
Too soon, for two more days remain, for work or play
during night or day, the end is nearer, anyway
Thursday, Thursday, we’re almost there at last
Monday Tuesday Wednesday were okay, they weren’t a blast,
But Thursday’s when you get all that homework done
So Friday and the weekend you can go and have some fun
Friday is a day of sun,
A few more hours and the day is done
Short and sweet and to the beat
With Friday, the week’s complete
The weekend goes by too fast and so slow
Time speeds and slows in it’s constant flow
But that’s okay we say Sunday night
To wake up and do it again, what a fright
As I said before, it really all depends
On how you take things, see things, and how your friends
Make you laugh the pain away and smile again
All in the hope of another weekend…
Sweet Mary Anne
In Vietnam we worked as medics to aid
Those who were injured in battle or maimed
But it was rather dull, for we’d not seen
A doll in ages, homesick we’d been
Until Mark called in his girl, Mary Anne
From Cleveland to Saigon, so it began
The story of the war’s siren song
Told in the tale of the Sweetheart of the Song Tra Bong…
A lass so young and bright and dear
To Mark, scarred and harrowed here
Did come so she might kiss his wounds
They were happy for not all of two moons
She was a doll with candy eyes
That smiled at the handsome guys
So bleak a land that marred them so
Became a land where flowers grow
Though we looked on with a longing gaze
She’d only eyes for her fiancé
Like that they laughed and joked around for
A week or two, then ran aground
The lovebirds fluttered and chirped away
But no longer could she stand at bay
“Take me, let me see the land of war”
And Mark relented, took her to the shore
Of a village not far from the army encampment
To see the little children running wild and rampant
Despite the war, that made mountains bleed
She looked on, didn’t flinch, and would never heed
‘Nam was not a forgiving place
But she smiled and showed everyone such grace
An angel she was, with wings of a dove
A dream, a doll, Mark’s true love
But a dream it was, as she stayed for two weeks
The Mary Anne that Mark ran to greet
Then change settled slowly, like a frost over life
His little flower grew distant and strife
Ensued, a quarrel between the lovers dear
“Oh Anne, Mary Anne, please don’t stay here!”
A foot was stomped and a shoulder turned
And, just like that, the red thread was burned
For this was where their future stopped
Mark cried, he did, with no care for the clock
Three weeks it’d been, and it crumbled apart
This little banter shredded poor Mark’s heart
“A girl, a doll, that’s all she is”
Mark thought, sure that she’d always be his.
“I may be lost, but there’s now way she can be,
I’ll fight with all I’ve got” said Mark desperately
Mary Anne relented, for a time at least
Complacent and docile, the fighting soon ceased
But cold was the girl who’d once been so kind
Mark had been strict with her, set a line
A line she crossed within a week
Thus his little flower, so thin and meek
Grew leaves of three and berries red
And left her foes speechless and dead
Away she ran, from Mark and life
To hunt and live on the rush of strife
Despite despair and anguish and fear
Young Mark did say “I’ll wait for her all year”
So there he sat by the little shack
Hands on his face and curled hunchback
The sounds of man so sad and confused
“My friend, poor Mark, what can I do?”
He did not reply, so I sat with him there
He’d become disheveled, with unruly hair
But despite his broken heart, he stood up, so tall
And, with only hope, and a hand on the wall
He knocked, a soft tap and a pause, scared at first
But then , hand clenched, in a wild outburst
He slammed hard, with a fist, tears falling, sobbing cried
“Mary Anne, Mary Anne, please dear, I’ve tried
Why have you run away, come out now, Mary Anne!”…
His voice cracked, and he shook as he grabbed the doorknob
With a glance and a step and a muffled sob
I stepped forward, curious, but scared as could be
And saw, in the shadows, Mary Anne, but she
Didn’t smile, didn’t blink, and without a single word
Looked on, didn’t speak, and as though perturbed
She stood still, unmoving, so cold and foreign now
But finally she spoke, and, with a furrowed brow
Said “Mark, you’re in a place where you do not belong”
And gestured to it all, the hootch, the land, ‘Nam
With a final goodbye in the form a smile, she said
“I’m home, Mark… I’m me, Mark, so leave, go back to bed.”
And so he did, he left, but said after we’d gone
“Do something, I can’t let her go, not like this-” “come on”
I interrupted, giving him a nudge, a push away from his former love
And so we trudged on, Mark now a flightless dove
For he didn’t realize that Mary Anne was no more,
An innocent little lass, she’d been mistaken for
But a mistake it was, to call in Mary Anne
“I’ll get to see my girl, get a kiss” had been the plan
Mark never realized that ‘Nam caused a change
In people, despite gender, despite race, despite age
Mary Anne included, but that he did not see
When he ran out to greet her, so full of glee
I think it was when she was curious, it all began
Learning to shoot, to hunt, to help, Mary Anne
Said “Take me, let me see the land of war”
And thus Mary Anne was lost forevermore
Off to School
by Hayden Pilkinton
Off to school we go, hand in hand
To a prison, a palace, or a fairytale land
You go were you go, every place different to each
Dependent on us, our mood, and our teach
I see it as no special place
sometimes a prison, sometimes a race
and yet still there’s the days when I feel like a queen
then there’s others where I think I can’t be seen
Monday’s a clip straight out of a movie
Only thing that keeps me up is music, groovy
in tune and in beat; sometimes I tap my feet
But time is long and attention is fleet
Tuesday is when things pick up a bit
Homework does too, giving us another hit
But we can roll with it, and sometimes it’s not bad
Monday’s rather gloomy, but Tuesday’s just kinda sad
Wednesday is humpday, we’re halfway through the week
Time to celebrate, play with your friends, but don’t speak
Too soon, for two more days remain, for work or play
during night or day, the end is nearer, anyway
Thursday, Thursday, we’re almost there at last
Monday Tuesday Wednesday were okay, they weren’t a blast,
But Thursday’s when you get all that homework done
So Friday and the weekend you can go and have some fun
Friday is a day of sun,
A few more hours and the day is done
Short and sweet and to the beat
With Friday, the week’s complete
The weekend goes by too fast and so slow
Time speeds and slows in it’s constant flow
But that’s okay we say Sunday night
To wake up and do it again, what a fright
As I said before, it really all depends
On how you take things, see things, and how your friends
Make you laugh the pain away and smile again
All in the hope of another weekend…
Kate Rainey
Lack of Comfort
Foggy windows, foggy eyes, dewy grass, covered smiles, the same repeated lines, the same repeated times.
The days become a blur, they gloss over like the same words we say to each other day by day without hesitation, without sincerity.
We become what we said we wouldn’t and we swear it wrong.
We are human.
We are the feet stepping on our own grave, causing a chill to run down our spines all the way until it takes over us, losing the warmth of our own minds to comfort us.
The blue light fazing over our foggy eyes, we become the same walking minds in different locations. What have we become?
We are not those kids anymore.
The memory of learning moves away slowly but surely, as we reach the finish line, never looking back. We get motion sickness from our everyday never changing blurry motions.
We surrender to the sound of our modern day hearts, the sound of silence in a crowded room and the sound of clutter as you sit alone in your dimly lit bedroom.
We become restless in our own body’s, our hands shake as much as our silky and sharp words we project in front of an audience with no listeners.
Spending each day of the year, one too many years, acting as we are not worth the comfort.
Our body’s aching, our minds shaking, we reappear and repeat, when will it be enough?
Lack of Comfort
Foggy windows, foggy eyes, dewy grass, covered smiles, the same repeated lines, the same repeated times.
The days become a blur, they gloss over like the same words we say to each other day by day without hesitation, without sincerity.
We become what we said we wouldn’t and we swear it wrong.
We are human.
We are the feet stepping on our own grave, causing a chill to run down our spines all the way until it takes over us, losing the warmth of our own minds to comfort us.
The blue light fazing over our foggy eyes, we become the same walking minds in different locations. What have we become?
We are not those kids anymore.
The memory of learning moves away slowly but surely, as we reach the finish line, never looking back. We get motion sickness from our everyday never changing blurry motions.
We surrender to the sound of our modern day hearts, the sound of silence in a crowded room and the sound of clutter as you sit alone in your dimly lit bedroom.
We become restless in our own body’s, our hands shake as much as our silky and sharp words we project in front of an audience with no listeners.
Spending each day of the year, one too many years, acting as we are not worth the comfort.
Our body’s aching, our minds shaking, we reappear and repeat, when will it be enough?
Marianna Sellers
Ain’t No Better Place
“ You could say it’s a slice of Heaven. A place that can only be found by me. Every scrape is always freshly freshened, there monster rubs everywhere you see. Man it’s like a whitetail paradise.”
Thinkin’ and daydreaming about the good memories arise in your mind, while listening to the brisk cold wind, looking out to see the snow falling because there
Chorus-
“Ain’t no better place, ain’t no better time than here and now. Yeah the ways we were raised and our southern ways, sittin back and thinkin’ about them good ol’ days”
Down through the woods and out in the green field. The deer are eating away without a care in the world. Escaping from reality while those tall pines sway.
Oh what an amazing sight it is to see.
His rack walks through into the open and hopin’ for a chance of a lifetime for a prime time to make a dream come true because there
Chorus-
“Ain’t no better place, ain’t no better time than here and now. Yeah the ways we were raised and our southern ways, sittin back and thinkin’ about them good ol’ days”
Caught up in the country with them fields of gold, miles and miles of John Deere green
Freedom as far as I can see
Yeah that’s where you can find me, caught up in the country
Chorus-
“Ain’t no better place, ain’t no better time than here and now. Yeah the ways we were raised and our southern ways, sittin back and thinkin’ about them good ol’ days”
To My Dear Alexander,
“Yeah, I believe ‘em when they say your in a better place, you had a wild side but you had amazing grace.
I know your way up off in them clouds. I was there when you raised your hand, heads bowed, singing just as I am, walkin’ that aisle, prayin’ that prayer, man it ain’t right but, if you gotta be there til then given Heaven some Hell and when we meet again I I hope you’ll have some new stories to tell.”
“I’m smiling as I wacth the years roll by and I’m learning how to take it day by day. Oh the memories never fade.”
“You didn’t know the world was full of greed and lust”, you just made your shot like you were living your life as a shot from a gun.” As you said, “Us immigrants we get the job done.” You had one shot and you made the most of it.
Making the commitment to your country to have a better future for our son and no one was going to get in your way.
Becoming George Washington’s right hand man and following your heart in your writings and showing your other colleagues how to serve your country for a better tomorrow.
Now it is up to me to keep your legacy going, to show the people your destiny to change, to lead, and to serve America.
Persevering through the tough times and having the nerve to keep going to having your story deserving to be told.
Keeping your old letter for inspiration and to be courageous to make a difference in the world. Wanting all of the next generation to have an equivalence for all of the children growing up to make their shot in the world by helping to develop the New York Orphan Asylum Society. Having piety for all of the children to let them know to dream big.
To dig their roots and to make their name be known in the world.
Teaching the children the fruits of the spirit and about God’s infinite grace and mercy.
Saving us from our sins to have eternal life.
Spreading and embracing God’s love to all of the children.
Learning about God’s kingdom of Heaven.
Anxiously, waiting until the day we met again.
“Calling me back in time, back to you, in a place far away, where the water meets the sky, the thought of it makes me smile, you are my tomorrow but, I stay strong and I hold on ‘cause I know, I will see you again, I will see you again.
Oh this is not where it ends.
Love, Eliza
Primary Source:
Presnell, Jenny. “Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton.” Exhibitions.Nysm.Nysed.Gov, exhibitions.nysm.nysed.gov//albany/bios/s/elschuyleranb.html.
Secondary Sources:
Dibdin, Emma. “The True Story of Elizabeth Schuyler in ‘Hamilton.’” ELLE, 5 July 2020, www.elle.com/culture/movies-tv/a33138291/elizabeth-schuyler-hamilton-true-story/. Accessed 1 Oct. 2020.
HARDY. GIVE HEAVEN SOME HELL. 2020.
HARDY. A ROCK. 2020.
Jason Aldean. Fast. 2009
Jason Aldean. On My Highway. 2009
Carrie Underwood. See You Again. 2012.
Hamilton, Alexander. “Founders Online: From Alexander Hamilton to Elizabeth Hamilton, [4 July 1804].” Archives.Gov, 2019, founders.archives.gov/documents/Hamilton/01-26-02-0001-0248.
“ You could say it’s a slice of Heaven. A place that can only be found by me. Every scrape is always freshly freshened, there monster rubs everywhere you see. Man it’s like a whitetail paradise.”
Thinkin’ and daydreaming about the good memories arise in your mind, while listening to the brisk cold wind, looking out to see the snow falling because there
Chorus-
“Ain’t no better place, ain’t no better time than here and now. Yeah the ways we were raised and our southern ways, sittin back and thinkin’ about them good ol’ days”
Down through the woods and out in the green field. The deer are eating away without a care in the world. Escaping from reality while those tall pines sway.
Oh what an amazing sight it is to see.
His rack walks through into the open and hopin’ for a chance of a lifetime for a prime time to make a dream come true because there
Chorus-
“Ain’t no better place, ain’t no better time than here and now. Yeah the ways we were raised and our southern ways, sittin back and thinkin’ about them good ol’ days”
Caught up in the country with them fields of gold, miles and miles of John Deere green
Freedom as far as I can see
Yeah that’s where you can find me, caught up in the country
Chorus-
“Ain’t no better place, ain’t no better time than here and now. Yeah the ways we were raised and our southern ways, sittin back and thinkin’ about them good ol’ days”
To My Dear Alexander,
“Yeah, I believe ‘em when they say your in a better place, you had a wild side but you had amazing grace.
I know your way up off in them clouds. I was there when you raised your hand, heads bowed, singing just as I am, walkin’ that aisle, prayin’ that prayer, man it ain’t right but, if you gotta be there til then given Heaven some Hell and when we meet again I I hope you’ll have some new stories to tell.”
“I’m smiling as I wacth the years roll by and I’m learning how to take it day by day. Oh the memories never fade.”
“You didn’t know the world was full of greed and lust”, you just made your shot like you were living your life as a shot from a gun.” As you said, “Us immigrants we get the job done.” You had one shot and you made the most of it.
Making the commitment to your country to have a better future for our son and no one was going to get in your way.
Becoming George Washington’s right hand man and following your heart in your writings and showing your other colleagues how to serve your country for a better tomorrow.
Now it is up to me to keep your legacy going, to show the people your destiny to change, to lead, and to serve America.
Persevering through the tough times and having the nerve to keep going to having your story deserving to be told.
Keeping your old letter for inspiration and to be courageous to make a difference in the world. Wanting all of the next generation to have an equivalence for all of the children growing up to make their shot in the world by helping to develop the New York Orphan Asylum Society. Having piety for all of the children to let them know to dream big.
To dig their roots and to make their name be known in the world.
Teaching the children the fruits of the spirit and about God’s infinite grace and mercy.
Saving us from our sins to have eternal life.
Spreading and embracing God’s love to all of the children.
Learning about God’s kingdom of Heaven.
Anxiously, waiting until the day we met again.
“Calling me back in time, back to you, in a place far away, where the water meets the sky, the thought of it makes me smile, you are my tomorrow but, I stay strong and I hold on ‘cause I know, I will see you again, I will see you again.
Oh this is not where it ends.
Love, Eliza
Primary Source:
Presnell, Jenny. “Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton.” Exhibitions.Nysm.Nysed.Gov, exhibitions.nysm.nysed.gov//albany/bios/s/elschuyleranb.html.
Secondary Sources:
Dibdin, Emma. “The True Story of Elizabeth Schuyler in ‘Hamilton.’” ELLE, 5 July 2020, www.elle.com/culture/movies-tv/a33138291/elizabeth-schuyler-hamilton-true-story/. Accessed 1 Oct. 2020.
HARDY. GIVE HEAVEN SOME HELL. 2020.
HARDY. A ROCK. 2020.
Jason Aldean. Fast. 2009
Jason Aldean. On My Highway. 2009
Carrie Underwood. See You Again. 2012.
Hamilton, Alexander. “Founders Online: From Alexander Hamilton to Elizabeth Hamilton, [4 July 1804].” Archives.Gov, 2019, founders.archives.gov/documents/Hamilton/01-26-02-0001-0248.
Maddie Mitchell
The Lady Nurse of Ward E
I, Amanda Akin, April 1863,
write my sisters,
“You are no doubt looking for a sign of life from me.”
6pm, I arrive at Washington,
along with my dear uncle
but there is no stopping him
We came along to the entrance at Ward C
and that there is where we met Miss P.,
who at seeing me handed off the patient’s dinner and excitedly welcomed me.
And that my dear sisters,to show you a “sign of life”
that in fact, at Washington, I have arrived.
May 14, 1863
Today I received many kind letters,
which are very comforting
and make me feel better.
I get assistance for my letters from Mrs. Secretary Wells,
who help write to the men
and the families of those who fell.
To me, the days are filled with rounds of duties
which makes me feel weary.
The women here feel anything but cheery.
To my dear sister, I miss you very much.
Until I journey home,
we will keep in touch.
June 28, 1863
Here at Armory Square,
Our ladies have a silence of prayer.
The days growing worse,
the soldiers fighting for their lives
but some will not return to their families and their wives.
The news is spreading rapidly across our land,
With newspaper headlines saying,
“MEADE IN COMMAND!”
My life here at the hospital goes on,
but then we hear of the death of John.
John F. Reynolds, general of the Civil War,
Killed in the Gettysburg Battle,
A battle of gore.
August 7,1863
My dear sisters, it is lovely to here from you,
”But you must not expect me home quite soon.”
Dr. Bliss wishes for me to remain here,
But soon I hope this will all disappear.
”I sat at my table adding to the list of medicines,
Writing down names and every single regiment.“
”I had forgotten how to feel“, even if I seemed fine,
”it seemed as if I were entirely separated from the world I left behind.“
January 10, 1864
Snow is falling, covering like a quilt on a bed.
”I write to Clara Okell,
but no letter from home yet.
I remain in my Ward until late afternoon,
until I get called to Dr. Bliss’ office,
who I haven’t completely talked to since almost June.
Our Ward is unusually quiet and mysterious,
Our captains are utterly serious.
My Sister, I am helping hundreds of these men.
I am busy right now,
so goodbye until I write again.
July 20, 1864
”The day has arrived to bid farewell to my ward.”
The day that I have longed adored.
”So with an inexpressible regret to leave even a few whose watchful eyes and patient smiles would bid stay.
But with an unspeakable longing for home and loved ones there, I have chosen to go away.”
My time at the Ward has been a great experience, I guarantee.
”Affectionately, your sister,“
”The Lady Nurse of Ward E.“
The Lady Nurse of Ward E
I, Amanda Akin, April 1863,
write my sisters,
“You are no doubt looking for a sign of life from me.”
6pm, I arrive at Washington,
along with my dear uncle
but there is no stopping him
We came along to the entrance at Ward C
and that there is where we met Miss P.,
who at seeing me handed off the patient’s dinner and excitedly welcomed me.
And that my dear sisters,to show you a “sign of life”
that in fact, at Washington, I have arrived.
May 14, 1863
Today I received many kind letters,
which are very comforting
and make me feel better.
I get assistance for my letters from Mrs. Secretary Wells,
who help write to the men
and the families of those who fell.
To me, the days are filled with rounds of duties
which makes me feel weary.
The women here feel anything but cheery.
To my dear sister, I miss you very much.
Until I journey home,
we will keep in touch.
June 28, 1863
Here at Armory Square,
Our ladies have a silence of prayer.
The days growing worse,
the soldiers fighting for their lives
but some will not return to their families and their wives.
The news is spreading rapidly across our land,
With newspaper headlines saying,
“MEADE IN COMMAND!”
My life here at the hospital goes on,
but then we hear of the death of John.
John F. Reynolds, general of the Civil War,
Killed in the Gettysburg Battle,
A battle of gore.
August 7,1863
My dear sisters, it is lovely to here from you,
”But you must not expect me home quite soon.”
Dr. Bliss wishes for me to remain here,
But soon I hope this will all disappear.
”I sat at my table adding to the list of medicines,
Writing down names and every single regiment.“
”I had forgotten how to feel“, even if I seemed fine,
”it seemed as if I were entirely separated from the world I left behind.“
January 10, 1864
Snow is falling, covering like a quilt on a bed.
”I write to Clara Okell,
but no letter from home yet.
I remain in my Ward until late afternoon,
until I get called to Dr. Bliss’ office,
who I haven’t completely talked to since almost June.
Our Ward is unusually quiet and mysterious,
Our captains are utterly serious.
My Sister, I am helping hundreds of these men.
I am busy right now,
so goodbye until I write again.
July 20, 1864
”The day has arrived to bid farewell to my ward.”
The day that I have longed adored.
”So with an inexpressible regret to leave even a few whose watchful eyes and patient smiles would bid stay.
But with an unspeakable longing for home and loved ones there, I have chosen to go away.”
My time at the Ward has been a great experience, I guarantee.
”Affectionately, your sister,“
”The Lady Nurse of Ward E.“
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"All God's Children" inspired by Just Mercy
by Maddie Mitchell 
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2019-2020
Sarah Martin, 17 “Mrs. Wilson”
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Braedon Garrett, 17 “Dark Side of Wealth”
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Bella Guynes
Eva Altman
Jade Stewart, 16 “The Man Behind the Fireworks”
Elaina Russell
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Caitlin Johnson
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Sara Heard
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Jordan McNair
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Maddie Butson, 14 “Meteorites”
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Jackson Norris, 13
“Walt the Angel”
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Carley King, 14 “Old Yeller”
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Carly King, 14“The Race”
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Yasmeen Baumhower, 13 “The Journey”
Wesley Killen, 13 “Hearthside”
Jonas Senkbeil, 14 “Fireflies”
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Mia Livaudais, 13 “If You Go”
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Clay Leech, 17
Blossoms
Falling from the tree
Arrays of pink, red, and white
A beautiful sight.
Flooding the sidewalk
Flower petals underneath
Flying through the air
Brushed against your face
Landing upon your warm hands
Holding it tighter
Walking home in rain
Petal at your chest, all snug
Light shining through
Grassy fields of green
Showered now with Sakuras
The trees are flowing
Finally arrived
Protecting my silky leaf
Lying down in bed
Not much to be seen
Just a man and his blossom
Sitting in the dark
Hikari shines bright
The spring heat is just right
Plants growing in night
Along the bonsai
A seed is planted not far
And then we just wait
It starts to grow tall
It’s been a year, after all
Soon it will be Fall
It sits in the yard
In front of my humble home
Blossoms colored white
And as it decays
After the very long decades
I too, start to fall
Now buried in dirt
But I am not alone here
Sakura’s above
That
I’m a writer, I wrote that
I’m a singer, I sang that
I’m not an artist, I drew that
I play video games, I own that
I’m not impressive, I show that
I’m pretty quirky, I’d hope that
But even through this and that
I’m happy. I know that.
Out in the Wild
Fumbling tents, bags, and pillows too
Preparing the dining fly, to cook all the food
Out here alone, for miles and miles
Trapped in isolation, out in the wild.
Tents being set up and sticks being moved
Setting camp up in the grassy dunes
Looks like we’ll be settling down for a while
Living like old, out in the wild.
Backpack on back, wind swiftly blowing
Walking through shrubs, all slowly growing
The smell in the air is enough to bring smiles
Because I’m right here, out in the wild.
A storm starts to brew, and rain starts to fall
But I let it soak in, because I’m in awe
Even though things are blowing, and it soon is a trial
That’s just life here, out in the wild.
A few days pass, and we’re now packing up
I hated to leave, I didn’t get enough
And now the memories are turned into files
Because with tech we are captured, but not out in the wild.
Bees
Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Buzzzzz
Buzzzzzzzz buzzz buzzzzz buz buzz buzzzz
Buzzzzzzz-rt. Taptaptaptaptaptaptap
Shinnnnng FWHIP!
“Ouch!”
Buzzz…buZZZZ BUZZZ BUZZ BUZZZZZZZZ BUZZZZ
BUZZZZZ-SPLAT.
Squish.
The Girl I Haven’t Met
Sitting under trees
My arms wrapped tight around you
Holding you closer
Memories of us
Dancing under moonlight’s glow
Like fallen snowflakes
Rolling down the hills
Running through the meadows vast
Hands intertwined; locked
It’s love at first sight
Nonexistent? No, you fools
You haven’t found it
If only you heard
The laughter that we had shared
Maybe you’d believe
Lying upon grass
Brushing our faces, gently
The sound of bird’s songs
Lost in your eyes, deep
Azure blue, glistening, bright
My lips reach for yours
No more sound, silence
Time stands entirely still
Breathing in your air
Together, just us
No rules, no limits, just you
If only, no truths
Rain
Purple red and blue
The skyline’s fiery hue
Turning into grey
Sound slowly fading
Torrents of chirps and chimes ring
Melodia, wild
Trickling down trees
Essence of the ocean deep
Making all a haze
Is this true nature
The luminous sun breaking through
A silver lining
Haiku Poetry by Honors English 11th grade
Greta Hunting by Jackson Killen, 16
A rug with white hair
Imma kill me a polar bear
Activists beware
Surprised by Rohan Peramsetty, 16
Standing against the pole
A slight tickle against my neck
A ribbon is the cause
Train in the Rain by Jade Stewart, 16
Soggy, damp, moist, wet
The train sounds it’s mighty horn
Can’t see it at all
After the Storm by Perla Vega, 16
The breeze carries rain
The recent storm is gone,
The sunshine returns
Flag Pole by Perla Vega, 16
The flag pole clicks clicks
Waiting for it’s piece of cloth,
Hanging it with pride
Falling from the tree
Arrays of pink, red, and white
A beautiful sight.
Flooding the sidewalk
Flower petals underneath
Flying through the air
Brushed against your face
Landing upon your warm hands
Holding it tighter
Walking home in rain
Petal at your chest, all snug
Light shining through
Grassy fields of green
Showered now with Sakuras
The trees are flowing
Finally arrived
Protecting my silky leaf
Lying down in bed
Not much to be seen
Just a man and his blossom
Sitting in the dark
Hikari shines bright
The spring heat is just right
Plants growing in night
Along the bonsai
A seed is planted not far
And then we just wait
It starts to grow tall
It’s been a year, after all
Soon it will be Fall
It sits in the yard
In front of my humble home
Blossoms colored white
And as it decays
After the very long decades
I too, start to fall
Now buried in dirt
But I am not alone here
Sakura’s above
That
I’m a writer, I wrote that
I’m a singer, I sang that
I’m not an artist, I drew that
I play video games, I own that
I’m not impressive, I show that
I’m pretty quirky, I’d hope that
But even through this and that
I’m happy. I know that.
Out in the Wild
Fumbling tents, bags, and pillows too
Preparing the dining fly, to cook all the food
Out here alone, for miles and miles
Trapped in isolation, out in the wild.
Tents being set up and sticks being moved
Setting camp up in the grassy dunes
Looks like we’ll be settling down for a while
Living like old, out in the wild.
Backpack on back, wind swiftly blowing
Walking through shrubs, all slowly growing
The smell in the air is enough to bring smiles
Because I’m right here, out in the wild.
A storm starts to brew, and rain starts to fall
But I let it soak in, because I’m in awe
Even though things are blowing, and it soon is a trial
That’s just life here, out in the wild.
A few days pass, and we’re now packing up
I hated to leave, I didn’t get enough
And now the memories are turned into files
Because with tech we are captured, but not out in the wild.
Bees
Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Buzzzzz
Buzzzzzzzz buzzz buzzzzz buz buzz buzzzz
Buzzzzzzz-rt. Taptaptaptaptaptaptap
Shinnnnng FWHIP!
“Ouch!”
Buzzz…buZZZZ BUZZZ BUZZ BUZZZZZZZZ BUZZZZ
BUZZZZZ-SPLAT.
Squish.
The Girl I Haven’t Met
Sitting under trees
My arms wrapped tight around you
Holding you closer
Memories of us
Dancing under moonlight’s glow
Like fallen snowflakes
Rolling down the hills
Running through the meadows vast
Hands intertwined; locked
It’s love at first sight
Nonexistent? No, you fools
You haven’t found it
If only you heard
The laughter that we had shared
Maybe you’d believe
Lying upon grass
Brushing our faces, gently
The sound of bird’s songs
Lost in your eyes, deep
Azure blue, glistening, bright
My lips reach for yours
No more sound, silence
Time stands entirely still
Breathing in your air
Together, just us
No rules, no limits, just you
If only, no truths
Rain
Purple red and blue
The skyline’s fiery hue
Turning into grey
Sound slowly fading
Torrents of chirps and chimes ring
Melodia, wild
Trickling down trees
Essence of the ocean deep
Making all a haze
Is this true nature
The luminous sun breaking through
A silver lining
Haiku Poetry by Honors English 11th grade
Greta Hunting by Jackson Killen, 16
A rug with white hair
Imma kill me a polar bear
Activists beware
Surprised by Rohan Peramsetty, 16
Standing against the pole
A slight tickle against my neck
A ribbon is the cause
Train in the Rain by Jade Stewart, 16
Soggy, damp, moist, wet
The train sounds it’s mighty horn
Can’t see it at all
After the Storm by Perla Vega, 16
The breeze carries rain
The recent storm is gone,
The sunshine returns
Flag Pole by Perla Vega, 16
The flag pole clicks clicks
Waiting for it’s piece of cloth,
Hanging it with pride
Cole Sellers, 17
White Lightning
That V-8 won’t make me late.
The sticker says, “Quality Crafted.”
She came from Georgia,
drafted right to me.
Ain’t she gorgeous?
That two-tone hits me like a stone.
She’s built “Ford Tough!”
and she’s all mine.
The Therapist
She’s seen me happy and seen me sad
We’ve got history cause she was my dad’s
if she could talk, she’d tell it all
our adventures have been a ball
Some say she’s old
but I say she’s gold
Some make fun because she’s so rusty
but who cares- she’s always trusty!
The Legend
He’s the king
of the spring,
When he gobble’s,
it makes me wobble.
So I must play my cards right
or he’ll take flight.
That V-8 won’t make me late.
The sticker says, “Quality Crafted.”
She came from Georgia,
drafted right to me.
Ain’t she gorgeous?
That two-tone hits me like a stone.
She’s built “Ford Tough!”
and she’s all mine.
The Therapist
She’s seen me happy and seen me sad
We’ve got history cause she was my dad’s
if she could talk, she’d tell it all
our adventures have been a ball
Some say she’s old
but I say she’s gold
Some make fun because she’s so rusty
but who cares- she’s always trusty!
The Legend
He’s the king
of the spring,
When he gobble’s,
it makes me wobble.
So I must play my cards right
or he’ll take flight.
Mia Livaudais, 13
Ocean Eyes
Her eyes are the ocean,
crystal clear but still cold.
Her skin is the sand,
by the sun made gold.
She comes in the waves
and leaves in the wind,
saying goodbye
when the high tide ends.
The Blind Girl’s Beauty
Her eyes are a never-ending pool of crystal water,
reflecting the moon’s ominous light.
But she can only see the shadow she casts on the earth,
not the masked beauty of her blind eyes.
She can hear the bird’s singing,
beautiful melodies arising from their throats,
but she will never see their vibrant feathers
nor their graceful wings flying across the brightest blue sky.
Still she knows each call by name.
a crude mockingbird’s sound is different than that of a gentle swallow.
And still she loves the birds,
though she knows she’ll never see the cardinal’s bright red
or the jay’s blue stripes.
She can hear the thunder bellowing and feel the raindrops on her skin,
but she cannot see the grey clouds lingering above,
spelling out doom for the garden’s green grass
that she’s never seen,
only felt between her toes.
We wonder how she still calls the world beautiful
when she’s never seen a vibrant sunset
and a warm painted sky.
But her world’s beauty is feeling the warmth of the evening’s sun fade into a gentle night’s kiss,
and hearing the bird’s calls slowly disappear,
only to be replaced by the song of the whistling midnight wind
as another day turns to night,
and tomorrow she’ll truly feel the world’s beauty
in a way we couldn’t begin to imagine.
The AP Lang Gang: Elaina Russell, Jordan McNair, Sara Heard, Eva Altman, Caitlin Johnson, Bella Guynes, William Ferro, Chase Glover, Becca Melton
Thanksgiving: the Tastiest Holiday
Pull up to Granny’s at twelve
Greet our favorite cousins and everyone else we forgot about at the door
Gather around the kitchen and say the blessing
Grab a plate then get this party started
Crispy cornbread catches our eyes
Hot out of the oven
Crunchy around the edges
Sweet or spicy, there’s no wrong choice
Oh boy, the macaroni!
Cheesy, gooey, liquid gold
Stringing from the spoon
Yum yum yummy
Rounding the corner, we find that big bowl of mashed potatoes
Creamy white clouds fill our plates
Don’t forget the gravy
Drizzle it up on there
Skip the dressing and the cranberry sauce
The old people Jello is too gross for us
Save it for the boomers
We just want turkey
Move’n on to the big boy
4 pounds and 7 ounces cooked to perfection
Juicy and tender
falling off that electric knife
We’re stuffed, let’s clean our plates
Oh, no! The dessert table!
Is there room for more?
Of course, silly, there always is!
Let’s start with some pie
Pecan, pumpkin, chocolate, or key lime
Can’t decide so we try them all
Plop onto the couch and fall fast asleep
HAPPY HOLIDAYS FROM THE AP LANGUAGE AND COMPOSITION CLASS!
Pull up to Granny’s at twelve
Greet our favorite cousins and everyone else we forgot about at the door
Gather around the kitchen and say the blessing
Grab a plate then get this party started
Crispy cornbread catches our eyes
Hot out of the oven
Crunchy around the edges
Sweet or spicy, there’s no wrong choice
Oh boy, the macaroni!
Cheesy, gooey, liquid gold
Stringing from the spoon
Yum yum yummy
Rounding the corner, we find that big bowl of mashed potatoes
Creamy white clouds fill our plates
Don’t forget the gravy
Drizzle it up on there
Skip the dressing and the cranberry sauce
The old people Jello is too gross for us
Save it for the boomers
We just want turkey
Move’n on to the big boy
4 pounds and 7 ounces cooked to perfection
Juicy and tender
falling off that electric knife
We’re stuffed, let’s clean our plates
Oh, no! The dessert table!
Is there room for more?
Of course, silly, there always is!
Let’s start with some pie
Pecan, pumpkin, chocolate, or key lime
Can’t decide so we try them all
Plop onto the couch and fall fast asleep
HAPPY HOLIDAYS FROM THE AP LANGUAGE AND COMPOSITION CLASS!
Avery Lake, 17
Grass
Grass. Soft, dewy, green grass.
Bugs. Buzzing, crawling, pestering bugs.
Water. Rippling, flowing, reflective water.
Trees. Towering, twisting, swaying trees.
Humans. Vicious, violent, hurtful humans.
Prideful, selfish, know it all humans.
Persistent, resistant, neutral humans.
Unkind, unforgiving, unloving humans.
The green grass knows better than to be anything but green,
The buzzing bugs won’t stop buzzing when they have been made to buzz,
The rippling water will only flow where its course has been predesignated,
The towering trees won’t refuse to stand out of pride,
But not humans.
Though they were created by God just as the plants and creatures were created,
They were blessed with something special: to be created in the image and likeness of the one, true, almighty God.
Given dominion over all other creation of God,
The human was gifted a superior mind and ample physical ability
To rule over all other creation with justice, wisdom, and love.
God gave only one rule to follow
and he would allow them endless happiness, beauty, intelligence
and life as they knew it could be unending.
humans could be immortal, never succumbing to the earth.
God gave only one rule to follow: obey my command.
Grass remains green.
Bugs continue to buzz.
Water still flows.
Trees stand taller than ever.
And humans?
Let us just say that never has a human been immortal.
-Tom
Grass. Soft, dewy, green grass.
Bugs. Buzzing, crawling, pestering bugs.
Water. Rippling, flowing, reflective water.
Trees. Towering, twisting, swaying trees.
Humans. Vicious, violent, hurtful humans.
Prideful, selfish, know it all humans.
Persistent, resistant, neutral humans.
Unkind, unforgiving, unloving humans.
The green grass knows better than to be anything but green,
The buzzing bugs won’t stop buzzing when they have been made to buzz,
The rippling water will only flow where its course has been predesignated,
The towering trees won’t refuse to stand out of pride,
But not humans.
Though they were created by God just as the plants and creatures were created,
They were blessed with something special: to be created in the image and likeness of the one, true, almighty God.
Given dominion over all other creation of God,
The human was gifted a superior mind and ample physical ability
To rule over all other creation with justice, wisdom, and love.
God gave only one rule to follow
and he would allow them endless happiness, beauty, intelligence
and life as they knew it could be unending.
humans could be immortal, never succumbing to the earth.
God gave only one rule to follow: obey my command.
Grass remains green.
Bugs continue to buzz.
Water still flows.
Trees stand taller than ever.
And humans?
Let us just say that never has a human been immortal.
-Tom
Genesis Lee, 13
Big Green Tractor
A song I play when I need relief
A remembrance of her
And something to cry to
“I can take you for a ride on my big green tractor”
Or
“Long as I'm with you it really don't matter”
I would sing to
But now I cry to
She loved that song
And I remember her listening to it
A song I loved
A song of light
Or even something to break the lock of the gate
To free my heart
To feel my light
To see my tears
To heal the pain
But I can’t
It hurts too much
The pain I hide
The love I buried
The light I killed
The hate inside me
The chipped one I hide
When she left life
The one bullet it took
The gun it came from
The man who pulled the trigger
It cuts deep
And leaves a scar
It cut me many times
The scars it left
The bullet hole it shot through me
The one in me I wish would just fade away
“Down through the woods and out to the pasture”
She will always be there… On the other side of life
From You
Scared
Scared of who I will grow up to be
Sad
Sad that you’re gone
Mad
Mad that I never knew you
Happy
Happy that you’re happier
Joy
Joy that came from tears
Strength
Strength that came from you
Fake smile
A fake smile that tells me I’m strong
I don’t want to go on
But I do
I don’t want to fight
But I do
I don’t want to be you
But I look like you
I was told to go on
I was told to fight
I wasn’t told of who I’ll be
I’ll accept who I will be
I love you mama
Even through your past mistakes
Chipped
Published in Stone Soup
Closed casket
Never can I see her again
My heart chips
My favorite song
I will never hear again
Another piece chips
They try to take the casket to the car
My sister can’t take it though
She runs to the casket
Screaming no no no
I watch
She doesn’t want to let go
As they try to pry her off
I chip again
We get into the car
Silently
My heart chips
They put her in the grave
I know I won’t see her for a long time
A big chip chips
The gates close
Behind the gates
My heart hides
Chipped and broken inside
Scared to be broken again
Scared to love
Scared to come out
But
I live on
Pain hidden behind power
I’m chipped
Problems solved with violence
Because I was never put back together
It’s not anyone’s fault but mine
I pushed people back
Never showed love
Never showed feelings
Only power
No pain
No more love to show
This is myself now
Broken in pain
Do not fear
I will be here again
Powerful with feelings
Showing myself
Chipped
And in pain
I won’t care
I will be here once again
I ride back home
My home Tuscaloosa
I’m silent
Watching the trees pass
As I ride back
I see
Mothers and daughters having fun
I start to cry
I suck up the tears
I say to myself
It will be ok
Even though I know I won’t
It’s been a week since the funeral
I am home now
Laying in my bed
Repeating the poem I wrote during the funeral
I look out my window
My friend is wanting to hang out
I say I can’t, And shut the door
Color
In my world
All I see is black and white
I’m sitting on a stone turtle
Looking at her headstone
Next thing I know
I’m at an old sewing factory
The parking lot
I hear a gunshot
I look
I see her car
I see blood
I start to cry
Every tear brings color
I notice you standing there
You ask
“Where am I”
I answer
“The place it all started”
You notice me cry
You bring me into your arms
I see more color
She sent you to heal me
You came and went
I saw black and white
And I saw color
I felt love
I felt hate
I saw the day for a split second
Then the starless night came back
Little White Dove
A little white dove so pure and so white
Its like an angel that flies so so high
I was a white dove but now the dark dove
I want to fly so so high in the sky
I made the wrong deal and started the wrong fight
I’m fighting dark without a thought of love
Now I’m filled with scars and darker than night
The battle scars won’t disappear, even when I try
I can’t fix what I’ve done, because of how far it drove
I can’t just stop fighting, they just won’t die
It’s too hard to share so I just write
Sometimes It makes me wanna cry
Maybe cause I’m not feeling alright
Or cause I wasn’t able to say goodbye
Sign of Trust
I admit it
I hide my heart
I’m not scared to love
I hate to love
My heart has scars
My heart has been shot by pain
She died years ago
I lived with her past
It made me fall into darkness
It let my demon take over
It made me angry
I can’t get over it
I never will
It just hurts too much
It’s just too hard to trust
It’s just too angering to love
It’s just too much to let them in
I only let a few people see
They see me
That is my heart
That’s my sign of trust
It’s hard to earn
It’s easy to keep
It’s a good sign
A sign of trust
My sign of trust
Stupid Speech Impediment
I stand in the front of the class
I say in my head
“Everyone’s eyes are on me”
I start doubting myself
I start to present
I’m shaking in fear
my heart rate spikes
The anxiety makes it worse
I try to talk
But the words just won’t come out
I just want to quit and just walk out of the classroom
As I finish
I’m still shaking
I give the project to the teacher
Then I sit down
All I want to do is cry
But I suck it up and watch the others
I start to think
They think I’m stupid
They don’t understand
They don’t know what it feels like
Why Do I Have This
It won’t ever go away
I hate talking
I hate presenting
I hate answering questions in class
…because of this stupid speech impediment…
Feel
Am I okay?
I don’t really know right now
I’m still trying to work on things
I seem frozen at this one thing
I get mad too easy
I start to yell
I say things I don’t mean
I can’t say sorry
What’s this feeling
I feel empty
It’s hard to explain
I feel shattered at times
This feeling is just numb
It’s too hard
I wish I could talk
But it never comes out
It’s like I don’t have a voice sometimes
I only feel comfort around my siblings
I guess they make me feel
Like I did before I felt numb
What’s this feeling
I feel empty
It’s hard to explain
I feel shattered at times
This feeling is just numb
It’s getting worse
It’s bothering me everyday
My mama’s dead
My uncle’s addicted
And my father doesn’t know I’m his
What’s this feeling
I feel empty
It’s hard to explain
I feel shattered at times
This feeling is just numb
Scars are hard to hide
Some are too deep
Some won’t heal
They make me feel worthless
That feeling won’t go away
Evan Jones, 16
Fear of the Dark
Walking around
Can’t see your way
Looking around
Trying to keep your nerves at bay.
Something is touching you
You don’t know what it is
A hand covers your mouth
But you’re sure it’s not his
He says today’s your day
While on the ground you lay
Such a sad way
Is all your family can say
Of light there was no spark
All we know is she died in the dark
Walking around
Can’t see your way
Looking around
Trying to keep your nerves at bay.
Something is touching you
You don’t know what it is
A hand covers your mouth
But you’re sure it’s not his
He says today’s your day
While on the ground you lay
Such a sad way
Is all your family can say
Of light there was no spark
All we know is she died in the dark
Jade Stewart, 16
Fear of All Fears
Feeling alone
All competition scares you
In life, you will never win
Losing
Under your skin
Reading too much into succeeding
Everyone criticizing
Feeling alone
All competition scares you
In life, you will never win
Losing
Under your skin
Reading too much into succeeding
Everyone criticizing
Love
Anonymous, 16
What is love? A feeling so vast.
Is it a shackle or is it a blast?
Love is blinding, foolish too;
Baby, I wouldn’t want it here without you.
Don’t try to deny it, as bad as it is;
Hurt is a part, yet all feelings are bliss.
Me seeks and destroys, the wonders and joys,
Don’t ever look back, or you feel so destroyed.
Hurt can be used, with lessons learned.
Methinks you should find love, yet shouldn’t yearn.
No need to see hurt, no need to be down;
More love is necessary, so your heart will pound.
(Go back and read the first word of every sentence btw)
-Ge0
Anonymous, 16
What is love? A feeling so vast.
Is it a shackle or is it a blast?
Love is blinding, foolish too;
Baby, I wouldn’t want it here without you.
Don’t try to deny it, as bad as it is;
Hurt is a part, yet all feelings are bliss.
Me seeks and destroys, the wonders and joys,
Don’t ever look back, or you feel so destroyed.
Hurt can be used, with lessons learned.
Methinks you should find love, yet shouldn’t yearn.
No need to see hurt, no need to be down;
More love is necessary, so your heart will pound.
(Go back and read the first word of every sentence btw)
-Ge0
Elaina, Lola, Carley, Hayden, 15
Saint Philip Neri
by Lola Shields, Hayden Pilkinton, Carley Thompson, and Elaina Russell
The 10th Grade class likes Saint Philip Neri,
the patron saint of joy.
Here’s a little about his life.
We hope that you enjoy.
He sacrificed a life of wealth,
to bring out the best of others;
And in this way pursued spiritual health,
and became one of our Christian brothers.
He walked all around God’s earth,
finding joy in the darkest corners.
With the help of joy and a constant smile,
he broke down many borders.
He laughed, he joked, he played around,
conquering the sin of pride.
Philip remained a humble man
until the day he died.
We look to him as a model,
a way to live a joyful life.
Remember Phillip’s name,
through all suffering and strife.
Don’t wait to live a joyful life,
act now, act merrily with haste.
Smile, be kind and share your joy,
don’t let God’s gift go to waste.
by Lola Shields, Hayden Pilkinton, Carley Thompson, and Elaina Russell
The 10th Grade class likes Saint Philip Neri,
the patron saint of joy.
Here’s a little about his life.
We hope that you enjoy.
He sacrificed a life of wealth,
to bring out the best of others;
And in this way pursued spiritual health,
and became one of our Christian brothers.
He walked all around God’s earth,
finding joy in the darkest corners.
With the help of joy and a constant smile,
he broke down many borders.
He laughed, he joked, he played around,
conquering the sin of pride.
Philip remained a humble man
until the day he died.
We look to him as a model,
a way to live a joyful life.
Remember Phillip’s name,
through all suffering and strife.
Don’t wait to live a joyful life,
act now, act merrily with haste.
Smile, be kind and share your joy,
don’t let God’s gift go to waste.
Rohan Peramsetty, 16
Reminiscing about Childhood
As I am surrounded by my family
It is a warm summer’s day
It’s fun to be a kid
No worries
Everyone is so kind
As I think back to sweeter times
I long for the way things were
Nothing to worry about
Nothing harmful happening
Just me being me
Time progresses and leaves turn colors
Nights get colder and darker
Halloween is around the corner
All I have to worry about is CANDY
Door to door my bag fills up
Counting candy was my job
It's so fun just being a kid
As time moves on
From summer to winter
Cold weather comes in, and so does Christmas
We’re a happy family
Everyone is at home
Everything is so calm
As time passes
Winter turns to spring
The Easter bunny is coming
Making a mess dying eggs
Hunting them is soon to come
Surrounded by blue skies
All is relatively sound
I miss being a kid
As I am surrounded by my family
It is a warm summer’s day
It’s fun to be a kid
No worries
Everyone is so kind
As I think back to sweeter times
I long for the way things were
Nothing to worry about
Nothing harmful happening
Just me being me
Time progresses and leaves turn colors
Nights get colder and darker
Halloween is around the corner
All I have to worry about is CANDY
Door to door my bag fills up
Counting candy was my job
It's so fun just being a kid
As time moves on
From summer to winter
Cold weather comes in, and so does Christmas
We’re a happy family
Everyone is at home
Everything is so calm
As time passes
Winter turns to spring
The Easter bunny is coming
Making a mess dying eggs
Hunting them is soon to come
Surrounded by blue skies
All is relatively sound
I miss being a kid
Jackson Killen, 16
Ocean
Pt 1
Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean
ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean
ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean
Pt 2
As you can see you’re in the ocean. Unless you didn’t read all of part one in which case you don’t know the setting, and you won’t be able to appreciate this literary masterpiece. So anyway back to the ocean. You’re on the side of a boat on the South African coast, overlooking the pearly blue water. A strong breeze grabs you like a strong arm and throws you overboard…..
Pt 3
Drowning drowning drowning drowning Drowning drowning drowning drowning Drowning drowning drowning drowning Drowning drowning drowning drowning Drowning drowning drowning drowning Drowning drowning drowning drowning Drowning drowning drowning drowning Drowning drowning drowning drowning Drowning drowning drowning drowning Drowning drowning drowning drowning Drowning drowning drowning drowning Drowning
drowning drowning drowning Drowning drowning drowning drowning Drowning drowning drowning drowning Drowning drowning drowning drowning Drowning drowning drowning drowning.
Epilogue
Things are quiet now, the pain in your chest has stopped, and you look up and see heaven, and down is hell. You start to fly up to the gate, but then Gabriel is all like, “bro, you gotta go to purgatory first…”
Burning burning burning burning burning burning burning burning Burning burning burning burning burning burning burning burning Burning burning burning burning burning burning burning burning Burning burning burning burning burning burning burning burning.
The end….. or is it?
Pt 1
Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean
ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean
ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean Ocean ocean ocean ocean
Pt 2
As you can see you’re in the ocean. Unless you didn’t read all of part one in which case you don’t know the setting, and you won’t be able to appreciate this literary masterpiece. So anyway back to the ocean. You’re on the side of a boat on the South African coast, overlooking the pearly blue water. A strong breeze grabs you like a strong arm and throws you overboard…..
Pt 3
Drowning drowning drowning drowning Drowning drowning drowning drowning Drowning drowning drowning drowning Drowning drowning drowning drowning Drowning drowning drowning drowning Drowning drowning drowning drowning Drowning drowning drowning drowning Drowning drowning drowning drowning Drowning drowning drowning drowning Drowning drowning drowning drowning Drowning drowning drowning drowning Drowning
drowning drowning drowning Drowning drowning drowning drowning Drowning drowning drowning drowning Drowning drowning drowning drowning Drowning drowning drowning drowning.
Epilogue
Things are quiet now, the pain in your chest has stopped, and you look up and see heaven, and down is hell. You start to fly up to the gate, but then Gabriel is all like, “bro, you gotta go to purgatory first…”
Burning burning burning burning burning burning burning burning Burning burning burning burning burning burning burning burning Burning burning burning burning burning burning burning burning Burning burning burning burning burning burning burning burning.
The end….. or is it?
Mary Katherine McNamera, 17
Mascots
Creepy and scary
Definitely not a fairy
One moment in clear vision
The next, he’s out of season
Some weird man hiding inside
Wondering if he gets near me will i die
Big, bold eyes
Looking like spies
Following people around
Looking like clowns
Do NOT like them like everyone else
I see them and want to protect myself
Creepy and scary
Definitely not a fairy
One moment in clear vision
The next, he’s out of season
Some weird man hiding inside
Wondering if he gets near me will i die
Big, bold eyes
Looking like spies
Following people around
Looking like clowns
Do NOT like them like everyone else
I see them and want to protect myself
Michiah Gill, 15
How do I Feel?
How do I feel?
Honestly, I just feel empty.
If I’m being real, it seems like no one's with me.
I always smile through my pain even though I know I’m not fine. I wanna make things right, but I can never find the time.
The world always seems to be moving too fast, and I know I only get one life. I’m trying to make it last.
How do I feel?
For the past few weeks, I’ve just been in this bubble. I'm not gonna lie, getting out of it is a struggle. All of the feelings are balled up inside. I just want to stay out of trouble. Been crying so much lately, think I have made a couple puddles. I really just want to genuinely be happy, but every time I’m even close, the devil just traps me. Yeah, it happens out of the blue, and I never really know what to do. Then my heart arrives in a sad place, but you could NEVER tell just by looking at my face.
How do I feel?
I feel like everyone has a story to tell, no matter their sex, religion, or skin color.
Some people just have easier ways of letting it out than others.
For me, I’d rather write than talk about my feelings any day
because I feel there is no point, no one cares anyway.
If you ever asked me,
How do you feel?
I'd say, “I’m good.”
Because if I had said what I was REALLY thinking, you would’ve never understood.
But I don’t know maybe I’m wrong...
Maybe my feelings don’t belong in a song.
How do I feel?
How do I feel?
Honestly, I just feel empty.
If I’m being real, it seems like no one's with me.
I always smile through my pain even though I know I’m not fine. I wanna make things right, but I can never find the time.
The world always seems to be moving too fast, and I know I only get one life. I’m trying to make it last.
How do I feel?
For the past few weeks, I’ve just been in this bubble. I'm not gonna lie, getting out of it is a struggle. All of the feelings are balled up inside. I just want to stay out of trouble. Been crying so much lately, think I have made a couple puddles. I really just want to genuinely be happy, but every time I’m even close, the devil just traps me. Yeah, it happens out of the blue, and I never really know what to do. Then my heart arrives in a sad place, but you could NEVER tell just by looking at my face.
How do I feel?
I feel like everyone has a story to tell, no matter their sex, religion, or skin color.
Some people just have easier ways of letting it out than others.
For me, I’d rather write than talk about my feelings any day
because I feel there is no point, no one cares anyway.
If you ever asked me,
How do you feel?
I'd say, “I’m good.”
Because if I had said what I was REALLY thinking, you would’ve never understood.
But I don’t know maybe I’m wrong...
Maybe my feelings don’t belong in a song.
How do I feel?