Category: 07th

Fall is a sunset,

Growing cooler
but not yet cold.

The blue of the sky before
As brilliant and bold,
As the green of the leaves
Before they grow old.

Then, caught off guard,
BEHOLD
Leaves burst into color,
Red, orange and gold.
Wind plucking them from the trees
Blowing them around, uncontrolled.
A whirlwind of color
Too quick to hold.

Once the sun sets
And the leaves have grown old.
They’ve fallen to the ground
The sky balck and cold.

For fall is a sunset,
A quick second of gold.
A beautiful painting,
It’s wonders untold.

Music is like an escape from reality
It enchants me with its musicality.
The blare of the trumpet, the beat of the drum
Tuning out the world, I sing and I hum.

The rhythm still is beating, the music is still going
The music never stops flowing
Through the air and in my bones
With different sounds and different tones.

And then I’m brought back to reality
My head still full of musicality
And even when things in life go wrong,
Life is better when there is a song.

Mess
was everywhere
Up and down
Where ever you
Looked you see trash
One day the custodian got
Tired of all the
trash
And disrespect so he
Decided to
Quit
Then the next day at school the principal
Came to my
Class and said
“Say hello to your new custodian”
The new custodian had a
Long tail with a beautiful scales
As colorful as a rainbow
And long bright
Red hair
Later that day at lunch I sat with my
Friends and we
Were talking
About the new custodian
“Did you see the new custodian”
“Yes, she is beautiful”
“I wonder what her name is”
A couple minutes later the
New custodian came to tell a little about
Herself
“Hi”
“As you may know I am the new custodian”
“And my name is Arial”
After that day the school was as
Clean
As a
Fresh pair of shoes

It all starts when the trees become abandoned
by their sole companions

When the warmth evacuates,
and the air becomes filled with frigid flakes

The ground has been bleached,
with the frosted tears of the sky

The wind seems to sigh,
while the crisp leaves
Dance
as if in a
Trance

The lights are strung
Illuminating the town in a special glow
And overhead,
The town looks like a bed
of snow

As the daylight
fades away

A grape is like a racer
So small yet so yet so big
They race to their freedom
Cause they want to be free
And when they feel free
When they are released from the stem
And that’s when they are free not yellow
White or green there purple and filled
Life oh there filled with such DEA lite
As they filled with a great life but th
E Feeling goes away fast as its
Life ends in a flash as they are
eaten and that’s their life

The pine trees rustle as you hurried across the sky
With crackling from the movement of dry leaves
Like dry sandpaper rubbing against wood
You are howling as if you were a wolf
Swirling around as if you were a Van Gogh painting
Once I let go of my kite
You take her away from me
As she hurls around the sky
Participation starts to fall
As it beats on the ground
There is no more sunshine to share

I wear my fuzzy jacket,
to stay away from the cold,
“Slurp”, I stand at my bus stop drinking hot tea.

Once I arrive at school, which I call jail, I put away my hot tea,
taking off my jacket,
as it is no longer cold.

When school is over I put on my fuzzy jacket,
and I grab my hot tea,
it is still as warm as hot bread, but becoming cold.

The feeling of the cold breeze through my fuzzy jacket while sipping my hot tea is what a school day means to me.

A Minion as a HEB shopper.
Screaming down the isles (AHHHH!)
Eating the bananas 1 by 1.
Going under people like small ants going under a huge log.

About to check out but sees a teddy bear.
Runs to the teddy bear.
Yelling and causing a commotion.

Calls his friends.
More like 200 of them.
Pushing down employes.
Breaking glass (Crash!!)

Screaming and yelling louder than a police siren.
Then they all check out.
But wait that is not all.
The cashiers cant see them only there noises from their shoes.

Splish!
Splash!
Splosh!
Every kid throwing
and dropping
food

“STOP!”

A voice from a corner said
It was a man in a yellow suit and bucket hat covering his face
he had a bucket and and a mop

“Who are you?”
A voice barely audible said in the corner of the room
“Custodian K.”
“That sounds like a cereal characters name!”
the cafeteria erupts like a volcano
except one

a tiny kid
maybe four foot one
recognizes the man
tries to run
but can’t
he pants
sweat dripping down his pants

Custodian K gets catches him
And gives him a pink slip
it only has two words

Lunch Detention

“who are you?”
The kid asks
“Call me Custodian Kagen.”

He is no flower, not a cloud.
Not even rain or fear.
He’s not inspiring to crowd.
His story – you will never hear.
He’s seen some pretty scary stuff, though.
Made fifteen lovely things.
And he survived not once, but twice.
He’s angel without wings.
To me, he is great, he does not judge. He listens, sticks around.
He’s “white and fluffy” little nudge. He is my trusted one.
I’ll write about him,
since I can.
I’ll honor him,
I thought.
The best his kind will get, “Ruuun! Raaaaats!”
My pet rat, little Salt.