Winter Mystery

Winter is a mystery
It has dark unknown things
With magical blistery
Weather and see what always brings

There are dark wonders
In this wonderful land
Where sometimes I ponder
With thoughts that may never go as planned

Sometimes you get lost
Where your mind is in light
But you are crossed
With magic that is like the sun, so bright

WInter is a wonderful calling
But there are secrets of darkness
In this time snow could start
f
a
l
l
I
n
g

Winter is fantastic, but could be something that is heartless

Winter comes and goes
With still things that haven’t unfold
As the chilly wind like a tornado blows
In a magical land with secrets that nature still holds

A Secret World

The sea is its own world
Begging to be explored
A secret only revealed to the bravest of divers
A maze n e v e r e n d i n g

The sea is full of life
Where creatures of all shapes and sizes are welcome
Each staking out their watery territory
Finding shelter in the sunken kingdom

The waves are the oceans deep breaths
In and Out
The water’s surface is a blanket
Protecting the life below and all of its chaos.

New York poem

Dear New York
You blow me away
Always flashing bright colors
But also very grey

The people walk your streets
Of mystery and color
Walking like no one is there
Bumping into each other

New York…
You take my breath away
With your gorgeous skylines
And just in every other way

Shoulder goes Bruh

Wrestling with my dad
Pushing, Laughing, Throwing
It’s all in good fun, nothing could go bad
But then it all went wrong

My foot hit the couch
Time slowed down
I fell for what felt like an eternity

THUMP!

“Aw that hurt”, I said, “Oh that really hurt”
“AAAH THAT REALLY HURTS”
My dad vaulted to the ceiling
He looked at my arm and said,“I think your shoulder is dislocated, oops”

My dad took me to the car
And we sped over to the hospital like a rocket
We got to a room and a doctor walked in
“Ooh that looks bad, but I can fix it” he said
He went over to me who was still crying

SNAP!

I winced as my shoulder snapped back into place with a sharp burst of pain.
My shoulder looked normal again, but there was the tiniest amount of pain.
We went back home
And laughed about it
About how I accidentally dislocated my shoulder

Saddness

Sadness a storm that swallows you whole
You’ll never be free
In the darkest deepest hole
You feel you cannot climb out
That makes buckets run down your face
And the water makes a lake

The water carries you up
You see the light of the sun
And the shape of a person
The water cares you up, up, up
You reach the top
Where your best friend is waiting

The Stone

I am Sisyphus,
Rolling a stone up a hill.
Except, my stone is different.
My stone is 7th grade.

I continue to roll my stone up every day,
and when I finish,
Night has fallen and The Stone falls back down again.

The Stone gets heavier and heavier,
Harder to push each day,
A boulder.

But there is someone
pushing the same boulder,
Pushing right beside me.
This is what helps me push The Stone.

This person,
Always there,
Even when it gets hard to see.
This person,
Always with me,
And helping me push The Stone.

Each and every day I push this stone of life,
Of challenges,
Of friendship,
Of work,
Of wondering how I could possibly continue.

But I am Sisyphus,
and there is someone right beside me,
Helping me push the Stone,
The Stone of 7th grade.

So I will continue to push.
And I will make it through.

pizza

Munch, Munch, Munch!
Crunch, Crunch, Crunch!
The food we eat a bunch

When you go out for brunch
You’ll have it more than once

Pizza
The food that will give you a punch
You will eat so much you’ll have to hunch
Hunch over like you’re a old lady
Because you ate to much

You’re not hungry
But you eat it for late lunch
I love eating pizza
And I eat it a bunch

Slam

As I steal the ball from the point guard I know I am going to score
The crowd roars like lions
I go up hard but them
Slam
Boom
Crash
I am lying on the slippery floor
I make the choice that I need to get up
Free throw 1, FreeThrow 2
As the other team takes the ball back
Stolen again by me
I race to the basket but then
BOOM
Again I am Shoved down
This time I fly
Very very high
Then
C
R
A
S
H
This time I feel my wrist
It feels numb and its shivering
But I get up again

The ball stolen by me again
I go up for the layup
Then
boom
I get hit harder then ever and then
C
R
A
S
H

Even a Broken Clock is Right Twice a Day

Half way down Cherry St.,
Past the rundown town cellar,
Is Woodburch Clock Shop;
Run by a lady and a feller.
And late in the night,
When the man has ceased to fiddle,
He treads off to bed

And the shop moves a little.

And the coo-coo bird tweets,
And the grandfather clock scowls,
And the alarm clock rings,
And the little clocks just howl.

And throughout all this ruckus,
The broken clocks snore.
For they never wake up,
They’re too much of a bore.

But the only thing
The man and lady could hear
Was the angel-like giggle
of their daughter Suzy Dear.

And so the woman rushed to her side,
And the man asked “What’s the matter?”
But the girl only gestured to the clocks.
“Don’t they make such a clatter?”

And though the man was confused,
The woman just smiled.
Then she turned to her husband:

“Oh, to again be a child.”